


Inside the Garrison

by JakePeralta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel Has a Religious Family, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Neighbors, Cults, Forbidden Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Parental Death, Past Abuse, Past Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Professor Dean Winchester, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Slow Burn, Undercover Dean, dark backstory, fake identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13812030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JakePeralta/pseuds/JakePeralta
Summary: Dean Winchester is a religious studies professor who has done extensive research on the behaviours and characteristics of religious cults. The most recent of which being the Garrison, a selective and highly secretive Christian group with very efficient recruitment methods.With his career on the line, Dean must embark on the most difficult research project of his career; pretend to convert in order to gain access to the isolated facility the Garrison reside in. To do this, he must win the trust of the surprisingly likeable and attractive recruitment officer, Castiel.





	1. Economics & Computing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, just a quick note before the story begins! 
> 
> I am a current university undergraduate, and part of my study is researching cults and alternative religions. Everything listed in here, all the information about the characteristics and study surrounding cults is taken from academic journals, books, or my lectures. This fanfiction was written as an aid to help me remember all of the information, so I hope you find it interesting. 
> 
> It is worth mentioning that everything in relation to cults and religions is speculative- everybody has a differing opinion about these things, and although these things are taken from peer reviewed academic content, that does not mean they are fact. 
> 
> This fanfiction in no way reflects any Christian, or any religious, group in the world at this moment. It is an entirely fictional account, and (although I won't say any spoilers for this story) is going to obviously going to have aspects of religious groups that little over exaggerated for the purposes of the story.
> 
> Although I am not religious myself, this fiction does take a more positive approach to religion, as it's important to Dean's character. Obviously there will be frequent mentions of religious themes, so I apologise in advance if anything I say is incorrect- from the best of my knowledge it isn't, but you never know! 
> 
> Finally, I really hope you enjoy this work. I have spent a very long time on it and I had such fun writing it! Thanks for reading!

As Dean rocked back and forth on his chair, he flirted with the idea of sending an email to Benny. The day was dragging, he’d finished most of his open projects, had his last class of the semester that morning, and he could really do with a stress reliving activity. Having sworn that the previous email would be his last, Dean cursed himself for being so easily tempted. He tried to distract himself, attempting to try out new ideas for work and organising his desktop, but it wasn’t working.

Deciding it would be easier to be away from his laptop, he popped down the corridor to the class where he knew Charlie would be finishing up her lecture. Darting into the room just before the end, he was just in time to see the red-headed, lecturer finish telling her students all about what their reading was for next week. The students quickly exited all chatting and smiling, leaving Dean leaning against the back wall. Charlie was a legend around campus, both because of her history of computer game programming and her teaching approach. At 26, only 3 years younger than Dean, she was one of the most respected and requested lecturers at Warwick university. Dean might have been jealous of her, had they not been great friends.

Charlie caught sight of Dean, and immediately rolled her eyes, even though she was smiling.

“You know, you can’t just come to my lectures when you need an excuse not to fuck Benny.” Charlie turned to him, eyebrows raised. Dean scoffed.

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“When why are you here?”

Dean should have prepared an excuse. “Because I wanted to fuck Benny.” He admitted sheepishly. He didn’t like how predictable he’d become. He was in a rut with his sex life.

“Oh Dean, Dean, Dean.” Charlie shook her head. “You said last time was it. That guy is the worst, why can’t you just be with somebody you, I don’t know, have something in common with? Or, better yet, somebody you like.”

“I don’t do relationships. I do sex.” Dean reminded her, taking a seat on one of the desks. Charlie came to sit by him, sighing.

“You should be aiming for more than that.” She hit his arm lightly. “You’re a handsome, intelligent, interesting guy. You deserve more than dirty sex on a desk from some blood sucker.”

“He’s not a blood sucker.”

“He may as well be. The guy teaches economics.” Charlie rolled her eyes.

“Oh, because computer programming and analysis is the more wholesome of degrees?” Charlie laughed.

“Maybe not, I do train the next generation of hackers. But still. Benny is no good for you. You could do so much better, have something real.”

“I’m too dedicated to my work, you know that.” Dean wasn’t lying. His work meant so much to him, he’d studied his entire life for his.

“Sure, but you’ve got to start putting yourself first every once in a while. A PHD won’t keep you warm at night.” Charlie pointed out. She’d given this speech to Dean half a dozen times since he’d started hooking up with Benny; telling him that the fling was keeping him from looking for something serious. And she wasn’t lying, she really did think Dean was ready for something more. He’d grown a lot since they went to university together and he’d been a student struggling with a lot of family baggage. His usual coping mechanism back then had been to go out, get wasted, and bring somebody home with him, but he was a lot better now. Sadly though, he was not over using meaningless flings as a way of avoiding his problems.

“Benny is an okay guy. He’s damned good at sex and it’s not like I need him for anything more than that. I’m happy with our arrangement.” Dean sounded somewhat defeated. He didn’t have it in him to keep having this conversation with Charlie. He knew she was right, but he couldn’t bring himself to change anything about his situation.

“Fine.” She narrowed her eyes and glanced down at her watch. “Don’t you have a meeting with your department head soon?”

“Wait…oh shit! That’s today.” Dean looked at his watch. His meeting was in 15 minutes, and he wasn’t even close to his building. “Fucking hell.” He muttered, rubbing his temple with his fingers. He’d kill for a coffee, but it looked like he wouldn’t get the chance.

“Whatever would you do without me?” Charlie beamed, cocky as hell, as Dean quickly headed out the door.

“Thanks Charlie!” He called back, blowing her a kiss. This was normally his way of saying goodbye to her; he knew she hated it and that was exactly why he did it.

 _Stupid meeting,_ he thought to himself. He’d put it out of his head because these meetings never ended well for anybody. They normally meant extra work. Thank God Charlie had reminded him, or he would have been in some deep shit.

He arrived outside of his boss’ office with a couple minutes to spare. He’d had to take a few short cuts however, as his building was all the way across campus, so his shoes were a little muddy, but he hoped Crowley wouldn’t notice.

“You can go right in.” Crowley’s assistant told him and Dean thanked him.

“Doctor Winchester, take a seat!” Chuck greeted him as he walked into the room. Dean smiled and nodded, sitting across the desk from him. “Nice shoes.” The man said, his voice thick with a Scottish accent Dean assumed the man was at least somewhat putting on, considering he’d lived in the US for over 20 years now.

“I went the scenic route, what can I say?” Dean joked, but Crowley didn’t seem amused. Dean averted his eyes, looking around him instead of looking at his superior.

It was an impressive room, with deep brown bookshelves covering most of it, and a huge desk in the middle scattered with files and papers. Among it, in front of Crowley, were a few of Dean’s own pieces. He could recognise the titles, and some of them had his name.

“I’m glad you could join me today.” Crowley said in a tone that did not suggest that statement was particularly true. “I wanted to talk to you about your most recent projects. Here at the University, we really appreciate all the research you do. There’s so few religious studies professors left, especially those that specialise in so many areas like yourself. I mean, you write a paper on ancient religious accounts on mythical creatures one minute, and then modern day Buddhist rituals the next, it’s a roller-coaster ride watching your career.”

“Thank you, Sir. It’s great to hear you say that.”

“What I find most interesting is your field work.”

“Thank you.”

“But, I notice you haven’t conducted any field work relating to your most recent few projects.” Dean thought back, his palms a little sweaty from nerves. This conversation was confusing him.

“The cult stuff? I mean, I’ve interviewed many witnesses to events, many ex-members. I’ve done a lot of research to techniques and the teachings of these groups.

“What about The Garrison group?”

“The Garrison?”

“Yes, you talk about them in many of your papers.” Crowley kept his voice calm, but it still made the palms of Dean’s hands a little damp. For some reason, the guy put Dean on edge whenever they exchanged more than a ‘hello’.

“I know, but I’ve done what little research can be done on them. They’re incredibly secretive and from what I can tell, they have no members who leave. They have an extremely affective recruitment team, they basically don’t share anything with outsiders. Most of their group is in an isolated facility in a small town, they only do community outreach in certain areas and they hardly let anybody inside.”

“Yes. So I read.”

“So, what has this got to do with me?” Dean was perplexed.

“No researcher has ever attempted to make contact with the group, and I think you’d be the perfect man to be the first inside.”

“But they don’t do interviews. They don’t let cameras inside. Nothing. I’ve tried.”

“That’s not what I mean. I want you to pretend to convert. I need you to participate.”

 _“What?”_ Dean exclaimed. “No, I don’t think so. No offense, sir, but I don’t think I’m the best guy to try and fool a cult.”

“Why not? You’re young and healthy, that’s their demographic. Your words.” Crowley tapped on the paper he was referring to. Dean knew he was right, although he hadn’t been able to discover much about the cult practices, the demographic was obvious when he looked at people reported missing, kidnapped or ‘brainwashed’ by their families. They did seem to target a stranger demographic than most groups like this, who usually targeted vulnerable people. The old, the divorced, the addicts. They did this too, but were oddly successful with any demographic. The Garrison seemed to appeal to young people too, just living their lives. There didn’t seem to be much rhythm or reason.

“I can’t, it’s unethical.” Field research, if conducted unethically, can ruin your career. If enough people write critically about it, you can kiss any chance of being a distinguished academic goodbye.

“Not so much. You’re lying to people who are being lied to.” Dean didn’t like this. It felt wrong. These were people who were dedicating their lives to something they believed in. He couldn’t just pretend to be one of them and then leave. That was so wrong. And who were they to say they were wrong? The point of religion was, provided it was ethical and moral, there were no right answers when you research.

“I can’t just uproot my life. I like my job here. How long would this even take?”

“It contributes to your yearly research work here at the University. We’d pay you, of course, this is no different to your other projects. We’re even willing to pay for the apartment when you move to the area, and for your living costs. We’ll also be providing you with some false documents, just in case. After all, they might know your name.” This was true. Dean had written many papers and done multiple interviews surrounding this work, as the Garrison had always been a fascination of his. Cults were one thing, but a cult with such mystery was like catnip to Dean. He’d love the research he’d done, but that was all on paper. Interviews and emails were a world away from going there.

And although he hated to admit it, Dean didn’t feel confident in himself as a field researcher. He had too much empathy. He understood why people turned to faith, even though he had none himself. He too knew it was like to look for the stability and comfort that these groups provided.

Besides, from the information he could gather it was an extreme Christian organisation started, and mostly ran, by one family. That would be hard to investigate, even if he was the best researcher around.

For what Dean could understand, Michael, the leader, was very mysterious. Dean didn’t know the rest of the family, and Michael was only known because of his early work as the leader before they became isolated. He did a few larger talks, but none of them were directly linked to the group, they just talked about being Christian. Now, there was no information from the group expect a few witness reports. They had no website, no literature that they shared, no YouTube channel or public speeches. They were different to anything else Dean had ever studied.

The group worked in Bakersfield, a small town on the edge of Kansas.  Their base, a small collection of homes Dean assumed, was closed off from the naked eye by huge fences. Dean had spent a long time researching them, but nothing had gotten him close to discovering much more about the group. Maybe this could be his opportunity.

“It could take months to gain access to the group.”

“We can give you that time.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” Dean was trying to be truthful. Crowley shook his head. He was still calm, but it reminded Dean of when parents say they’re disappointed instead of angry, which is so much worse.

“Dean, I’m going to level with you. This is a big university. The Religion department isn’t exactly the most important so I need a huge, ground breaking project to ensure it gets funding. I can’t promise if you say no that you’ll have a job anymore. There are a lot of departments that might benefit from the religion department downsizing. And I don’t want to be out of a job any more than you do.” Crowley never even broke eye contact as the left corner of his mouth tilted up in a half-smirk.

“Are…are you telling me I have to go or I’ll lose my job? I could report you for this.” Dean was shocked.

“I don’t want you to lose anything Dean, but if you don’t do this, I might be inclined to tell people about your friendship with a certain economics professor to the Dean of this University, and I doubt he’d be very happy. There’s plenty of proof that you’ve been engaging in some rather inappropriate activities on his campus.”

“So, you’re blackmailing me?” Dean spat the words out.

“I’m just doing what I have to Dean, I don’t want to lose my job. And I don’t want you to lose yours.” Crowley leaned back in his chair. “You have until tomorrow to make your decision. It’ll take a couple weeks to get it sorted, but if you make the right choice, you’ll be in Kansas by the end of the month.” Crowley smiled, smug. “Let me know.”

Dean stormed out of the office and down the stairs of the building. He was furious. Yes, this would be a great opportunity, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t seriously fucking unethical to lie to people. It didn’t matter what religious group they were a part of, Dean felt this was wrong. But he couldn’t lose this job, it was the best he’d ever had. And there weren’t that many university’s that were looking for lecturers that did what Dean did.

Dean grabbed his phone, desperate to do something to calm him down. He knew he’d regret it later, but he decided that was a problem he didn’t have to worry about yet.

“Benny?” He said, the moment the other end of the line picked up. “Meet me in 5, your office.”

**

Dean crashed his lips against Benny’s before the man had even had a chance to say hello. He threw him against the closed door of Benny’s office, pressing his entire body against his. Dean’s kiss was hard, and Benny took no time into responding with as much enthusiasm, his hands tugging at Dean’s shirt. All the fury Dean was feeling, all the frustration and helplessness was being tangled up in the kiss. Dean knew he was using Benny for a physical release, but he couldn’t give a shit right now. Benny knew the situation between them, and he wouldn’t care.

Dean reached out and locked the door, breaking away from Benny just long enough to check that it was locked and that the windows had their blinds down. Not that it mattered, apparently, they’d not been careful enough before.

“Hello to you too.” Benny chuckled to himself.

“Shut up.” Dean demanded. He was pissed enough already without Benny making snide comments about everything. The man was basically incapable of saying anything to Dean without it being sarcastic.

The two had begun hooking up about a year ago, when Dean got drunk at the Christmas party after Benny had mocked what Dean had been researching at the time. Dean, full of liquid courage, had gone to confront the man who’d called his work ‘basically studying magic shows and fairy-tales’ but Benny had had other ideas on how the two could better spend a night. A drunk, and very horny, Dean decided that his anger had better be put to good use, so they’d done it in the supply closet of the reception while the party was still going on. To this day, Benny was still the best sex Dean had ever had, so despite his comments and general rudeness, Dean had tolerated him.

“I knew you’d be back.” Benny smiled.

“I said, shut up.” Dean shoved the man onto desk, removing his own tie that had begun to dig into his neck. He threw it to the ground. Benny moved his laptop and placed it on his chair before sliding back so he was fully sat on the desk. Dean kissed him hungrily, trying to put the anger out of his mind. He hurried things along, pulling himself closer to Benny. He started to kiss his neck as Dean began to unbutton Benny’s shirt. The shirt was flung to the floor and was quickly followed by Dean’s. Benny ran his fingernails over Dean’s back lightly and listened to him moan.

The pair had done this enough to know exactly what the other two wanted. And although it was over within a half hour, mainly because they were still at work and couldn’t spend too long locked away, both parties felt mutually satisfied as they lay back for a few moments post-orgasm, both sweaty and breathing fast. Dean was slumped on the floor, leaning against the desk, having come down from his position on top of both the desk almost immediately. It was a good, sturdy, desk but it couldn’t exactly fit two.

“You seemed…even angrier than usual.” Benny commented, his breathe still a little strained. He wiped a little moisture off his forehead. Dean sure did know how to make him build up a sweat.

“I was with you, are you surprised?” Dean retorted, his voice maintained a somewhat bored tone. It wasn’t too hard to keep, considering how much Dean had playing on his mind at that current moment.

“I liked it.” Benny said, then after a few beats continued. “What’s on your mind? Because let’s face it, you didn’t come here because you were walking on sunshine.”

“What do you care?” Dean began to clean himself up and start putting his clothes back on. The sex had been a helpful distraction from his problem, but it was over now so Dean was feeling himself getting worked up again.  

“Come on now, we’re basically friends. We have sex after all.” Dean hated that he found this man attractive, but even the way Benny spoke, made Dean tempted to go for round two. His voice was just so damn…velvety.

“We’re not friends. We have sex, that’s it. And from the looks of things, that will be over now.”

“You say that every time.” Benny had started to dress himself, but had only gotten as far as putting his pants on. He stood, shirtless, as Dean fumbled with his belt. Benny waltzed over to him and took a moment to glide his fingers over the small of Dean’s back. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, he did it to see if Dean was willing to go again. Dean didn’t kiss him, or make a move, so he assumed they were done for the day. “We have fun though, don’t we? Nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m serious. I’m moving away for a while. Or being fired. One of the two.”

“Well that’s too bad. I do rather enjoy our little playdates.” Benny said, and for possibly the first time, wasn’t being sarcastic.

“Thanks.” Dean said bitterly.

“Don’t mention it.” He leaned over as Dean put his jacket on, placing a small, delicate kiss on his lips. Dean was a little taken aback.

“I hope it works out for you, Winchester. And remember, my offer for mind blowing sex will still stand when you come back. If you do that is.”

“Thanks. Although if mind-blowing sex was an option, I wouldn’t have requested it before, rather than tolerating the mediocre shit you normally provide.” Dean smirked at his response, and Benny scoffed.

“Of course, you could do the world a favour and just come back here to study a _real_ degree for a change. If you get fired, obviously.”

“There’s the man I’ve come to know and loathe.” Dean laughed. “See you Benny.” And he left, feeling physically better than before, but a lot worse psychologically. He did this every time. Maybe Charlie was right about him needing to find a real relationship, but Dean knew that would never work out. He was incapable of maintaining relationships. He was better at one night stands, or just sex. Everything else was alien to him.

Dean returned once again to the computing department to explain his dilemma to Charlie.

“I can’t believe Crowley would put you in his position.” She said, shaking her head and trying to process all the information Dean had just thrown at her. 

“I don’t know what to do. On one hand, this is an incredible opportunity for me as a researcher. The first inside the Garrison? Boom, career game changer.”

“But?”

“These are people’s lives I’d be involved with here. I’d have to gain their trust only to throw it right back in their face. It’s unethical. Immoral. Insider research is frowned upon for a reason.”

“How long would you be gone?” Charlie hated the thought of her best friend moving away.

“As long as it takes me to gain the knowledge I need. Could be months.” Dean sighed. “I can’t lose this job Charlie. I love it here.”

“But you’d be uprooting your life here to move away for months. Is it worth it?”

“I don’t know. This could be my legacy. I could write half a dozen books, be the first and maybe only scholar ever to make contact with the leader. It could change everything. But it could also fuck everything up.”

“You should talk to your brother about this Dean. He’s the one that can give you some real guidance on the moral thing to do.” Dean knew Charlie was right. He nodded.

“I’d best get out there.” He started to head out the door before turning back and giving Charlie a huge hug. It wasn’t often he felt this emotional, and he knew Charlie would feel a little uncomfortable, but he needed this right now. His head felt like it had gone through a trash compactor.

“I love you.” He told her quietly.

“I know.” She smiled back. “Oh, and by the way Dean, you smell like sex. I swear to God, you’re so weak. End things with that guy.” She slapped his arm, only half serious, knowing there were bigger things to worry about.

“Hey, plus side of all this, I might have to.”

“Just for the record.” Charlie gave Dean a kind smile and tilted her head to the side sympathetically. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Me too, Charlie.” Dean muttered, more to himself than to Charlie. “Me too.”

**

The next few weeks went by pretty fast, and before Dean knew what was happening Sam and him were on the way to the airport.

“For the record, I still think you’re making a bad choice.” Sam sighed as his knuckles tightened on his steering wheel. “But, I understand your reasons.” He added, somewhat defeated. He’d learn a while back, once Dean had made up his mind about something, there was no changing it.

“You know Sammy, for a lawyer, you’re fucking useless at convincing me not to do things.” Dean smirked. He loved pushing his brother’s buttons, and that one always got him. Sam quickly shoved Dean’s arm, then went back to gripping his wheel.

“Yeah, well, if your sorry ass gets into trouble with his fake identity, you’re gonna have to hope the police are a little more convinced by my lawyer skills.”

As an academic who’d written a lot of books about cult dynamics, behaviours and analysis, Dean wasn’t taking any chances with his identity. The university had helped with documents and an apartment, but Dean wanted to be more cautious. From the looks of things, the Garrison didn’t fuck around.

Sam had put him in contact with somebody who erased ‘Dean Winchester’ off social media, and created ‘Dean Singer’. Bobby Singer, an old family friend who’d raised the boys for a better half of a decade, had agreed to let Dean use him as a ‘family’. That meant if anybody did look into Dean Singer, they’d find nothing more than a forgotten Facebook page from 2011 and an article from when Bobby let Dean take over his business in the junk yard. No connection between Dean Winchester and Dean Singer could be made, so Dean felt assured that with his fake documents he’d be fine.

His backstory wasn’t genius but he hoped it would do. The university had pre-paid for 6 months of rent in this little apartment building right across the street from the main recruitment centre for the Garrison- the Willowbrook centre. It was a little social centre used for things like dance classes and AA, but mainly it was used by the Garrison. From what Dean could tell, they owned the place and used it as a source of income too. They offered support to those in need, and classes for kids. Dean had never gone there, mainly because he couldn’t afford to just drop everything to visit what is known to be a secretive cult, but he’d phoned before and asked for interviews. None were given.

Dean was to tell anybody who asked that he’d just moved across country to care for his Great Aunt, who then passed away. He was separated from his long-time partner (divorced would have been better, but it had been too complicated to place a digital footprint on a fake wedding, so they’d opted instead for a long-time girlfriend) with no children. He had little family left, expect Bobby, who he had not spoken to since leaving the family business. That way, Dean figured, nobody would ask why Bobby was not around.

Dean had studied a lot, and his personality and backstory were supposed to fit into most of the categories of traditionally targeted individual, even if the Garrison talked to those of any demographic. With it being a Christian group, Dean had made the choice to have his previous partner be female, because he wasn’t sure how being an openly bisexual man would go down.

The plan was relatively fool proof, but that didn’t stop Dean’s hands from shaking as they approached the airport drop off area.

“You can still say no to this.” Sam reminded him.

“I can’t. What if this is the only chance I have to make a breakthrough? I’ve spent my whole life studying religion and I’m not about to throw away my chance at such a ground-breaking piece of research.”

“I know, I just worry about you. I don’t want you being brainwashed.”

“Actually, there’s very little evidence that cults use any form of brain-washing on-“

“I know, I know.” Sam laughed. “I’ve read your books. They’re a good way to get me to fall asleep.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam retorted as they pulled up. “I’ll miss you.”

“Ew.” Dean smiled. “Thanks. I might notice your absence. If I’m not too busy being brain washed.” He joked. He quickly leaned over and threw his arm around his brother’s shoulder, giving him a hug. Sam patted his back and then Dean got out of the car.

He only had a few bags as the rest of his stuff would have to be purchased, or would be provided in the new apartment. He waved as Sam started to leave, and tried to keep his smile bright. He felt as though he was making a huge mistake. This was not exactly a new emotion for Dean, but it was so rare he felt it in such a momentous quantity. This wasn’t just some hook up in a bar that he’d regret in the morning. This was his whole fucking life.


	2. Neighbours & Posters

The journey was long, and by the time the taxi pulled up outside of his new apartment building, Dean just wanted to collapse. That wasn’t an option however, mostly because it was still just after noon, and because he needed to unpack and sort out everything. He was hoping to get started with the Garrison as soon as possible. Once Dean started on a project, not a lot stopped him or could slow him down. That was one of the reasons Dean had so much work already published, he was a non-stop worker. Sam had always said if he’d chosen a different major, he would be at the top of the world of academics, but Dean had never wanted that. Religion was his passion, and he didn’t care that made it harder to excel. In fact, he liked the challenge.

Dean hauled his bags into the building which had a dark entrance with some sad- looking plastic plants dotted around underneath what looked like 40 years of flyers stuck over each other on the walls and notice boards. It smelt ever so slightly like damp and cigarette smoke.

Dean was located on the third floor of the building, so he looked to see if there was an elevator. He spotted one in the corner, a slim, old looking thing that looked as though it existed before the building itself. There was a tattered but distinctive piece of black tape over the door, which Dean took to mean as a bad sign.

“It’s been like that for years.” A deep voice told him from behind. Dean jumped a little, having not heard anybody walking near him. He turned, ready to excuse himself politely before he was roped into any kind of long conversation, but his eyes caught sight of the person who’d spoken and Dean felt the instant urge to remain exactly where he was. For as long as possible, if Dean could help it.

In front of Dean was possibly the most attractive man he had ever laid his eyes on. A smaller guy, who looked slightly older than Dean, with dark mahogany hair sticking out at all angles as though somebody had been running their fingers through it, stood staring at Dean with the most intensely blue eyes. They were so vivid, even in the shit lighting of the foyer. Dean was mesmerised. The man had an angular jaw and sharp features, with dark angular eyebrows, slight stubble and long eyelashes. Dean had never noticed a man’s cheek bones before, only did they seem attractive or noticeable on women, but on this man? Dean realised he had been ignoring a vital attractive feature of the human face. Dean allowed his eyes to wander downwards, checking out the man’s body. He wore jeans that looked to be very old, and a fitted t-shirt that was a faded grey.

Dean absent-mindedly ran his tongue along the bottom half of his lip. The man continued to stare, now looking a little more confused than he did when Dean had turned around.

“I said, it’s been like that for years.” The stranger spoke up a little, repeating himself, and Dean realised he’d been staring a little too long. The man must have thought he didn’t hear him.

“Yeah.” Dean said, a little weakly. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Yeah, thanks. I’m, uh, new. To the building. I’m new to the building.” Dean stumbled over his words like an eighth grader talking to a teacher they had a crush on.

“Well, hey there.” The man smiled and Dean could have sworn the room didn’t seem as dark anymore. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, and it seemed like such a heart-warming smile. The smile of somebody you’ve known for years, just full of comfort and familiarity. “My name is Castiel. I’ve lived here a long time, so feel free to ask me anything.”

The man seemed to radiate positivity. Dean couldn’t help smiling back at him, it seemed cruel not too when this man seemed to be smiling enough for two. Castiel’s eyes shone as he smiled, so sweet.

“Uh. Thanks. Do you…like… living here?” Dean should have left. He knew that now. This was the worst first impression he’d ever given, and that was saying something.

“Sure. What’s not to like?” The man looked around, and the expression on his face made Dean question if they were seeing the same place. Castiel seemed to love it here, in the grey, somewhat gross room.

“Right.” Dean said, still trying to focus on what to say. Castiel’s smile faltered.

“So, where are you from?” Castiel prompted him. Dean considered telling him the truth, that he was a smart, usually totally smooth scholar of religion who was just making a bad first impression. He wanted to assure this extremely hot individual who he would be living in close proximity to that he was normally much better to talk to. But he couldn’t.

“South Dakota. I just moved today.” Dean gestured down to his bags. “My great Aunt became sick, so I moved to take care of her, but she passed away a couple weeks ago, before I got down here permanently. I’ve just been staying with distant cousins, then I found this place.” Dean chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to tell you my whole life story. You must think I’m a weirdo.”

“It’s fine, it’s nice to talk to people. I am sorry for your loss. Were you close to your Great Aunt?” Castiel looked sympathetically at Dean, maintaining eye contact which surprised Dean. People usually responded poorly to strangers sharing personal details.

“She was practically the only family I had left, minus the couple of cousins’ I was staying with. I’m sure they’re glad to see me gone though, I got the feeling they’re weren’t the biggest fan of my Great Aunt.”

“I am sorry.” The man reached out and touched Dean’s arm lightly. “I didn’t catch your name.” Dean realised he had never given it.

“Dean Singer.” The new name rolled off his tongue easily. It was often the name Dean preferred, given his close relationship with Bobby. It felt right. Had it not been for Sam, Dean may have considered changing his name legally a long time ago. Now, of course, he wouldn’t, because of all his work being under the name Winchester. Still, it felt nice to have the name.

“Dean Singer, it’s nice to meet you.” Castiel reached out to shake Dean’s hand and Dean prayed his was not as clammy as he thought it was. “Welcome to the building.”

“Thank you.”

“If you ever need somebody to show you around, knock on my door, I’m number 22.”

“Oh, I’m on top of you.” Dean pointed out, then cringed. “My apartment! My apartment, it’s on top of your apartment, right? I’m 32.” Castiel was still smiling, but he’d averted his gaze to the floor. Dean only knew this because of the diagram he’d quickly glanced over to the side of the elevator that informed you of the layout of the building.

“Yes, I hope you’re a little quieter than my last neighbour.”

“I’ll do my best. I only practise my tap dancing every other day.” _Better_ , Dean told himself. Smoother, a little more charming. He was turning this around.

“I’ll make sure to put my headphones on then.” Castiel laughed. As he did, a shorter man with longish brown hair and a green jacket confidently waltzed (not walked, it was definitely a waltz) into the entrance and made a bee line for Castiel.

“Hey. What’s going on?” He asked, his eyes flickering between Castiel and Dean. His eyes narrowed looking at Dean, filled with suspicion. _Crap,_ Dean thought. He’d quite liked the look of this guy, and he was already taken, typical.

“This is Dean Singer. He is new to the town.” Castiel spoke in a slightly nervous way, his voice a little more stilted than it had been a few moments ago. Dean instantly took a disliking to this new guy, but he held his hand out for a handshake anyway.

“Pleasure.” He said, and the guy took his hand. He smiled, and nodded his head once.

“Welcome Dean, I’m Gabriel.” Castiel? Gabriel? Dean wondered why the hell everybody had biblical names around here.

“Hey. How do you know Castiel?” Dean held his breathe, hoping for something platonic.

“We’ve known each other forever, right Castiel?” Gabriel put his arm around Castiel, who smiled weakly.

“That’s right. We go way back.”

“Nice.” Dean forced a smile. _Dammit, why were all the cute ones straight or taken?_ “Well, it’s nice to meet you both. I know nobody in the area, so I’m glad I now have some familiar faces to look out for.”

“We’re in a book club, you should come along.” Castiel seemingly blurted out, and Dean was a little taken aback, but pleasantly surprised.

“A book club?”

“Do you like to read?”

Dean considered this a moment. He supposed translating ancient Latin texts or analysing the Bhagavad-Gita didn’t really equate to liking Stephen King novels or whatever, but it didn’t scream ‘bad idea’ so Dean was open to it. “I do.”

“Here, have a flyer.” Castiel held out a relatively basic poster from the few in his hands he’d clearly come to add to the mountain of paper that was already on the walls. It had the words ‘book club’, the meeting time and the location, which peaked Dean’s interest.

“Wait, the Willowbrook centre? Is that the building I saw across the street?” Dean tried to hide his intrigue.

“Yes.” Gabriel said, and his tone did not suggest Dean should ask any more questions.

“Great… that’s a handy location. I look forward to joining you.” He checked the date and day. “Tomorrow.”

“Great.” Castiel smiled again, back to the smile Dean had seen the first time. Dean grinned back, he couldn’t help it. It felt a little weird with Gabriel there, Dean felt as though he was openly flirting with a taken man in front of his partner. Still, that smile was too infectious.

“I’d best get going.” Dean gestured to his bags, and started heading to the stairs. “See you.”

“Nice meeting you.” Castiel said from behind, and it took a lot of self-control for Dean not to look around, just for one more glimpse of that angelic smile.

Dean fumbled with his new keys until he finally managed to get the door open. The apartment wasn’t as bad as he assumed it would be. It was mostly just…beige. The couch was a faded brown leather, resting upon a neutral carpet with a few odd stains but nothing that looked overly offensive. The kitchen was in the same room, just to the side, and it had the same faded brown colour as the couch on the cabinets. It was as if somebody knew that twenty years after they bought the couch, it would match the kitchen perfectly. There was a pair of stalls next to a counter, a stove and a microwave. Nothing special, but nothing that Dean hated. It was just okay.

The bedroom and bathroom was much of the same.

Dean unpacked his stuff within half an hour, sat down for the rest of the hour, then headed out for supplies. He was renting a car, with the money from the university, so it didn’t take him long to pick up groceries, sheets, towels and the rest of the essentials. He even went to a store to pick up a few books to put on the shelves, ones that didn’t scream ‘religious nerd’. Most of the stuff he read was online or at his university’s library anyway, so he’d not felt inclined to bring many books from his ever-expanding collection at home.  

He returned to the apartment, putting away the groceries, and collapsed onto the sofa. He was asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope you're liking the story so far! Please lemme know your thoughts, any feedback is appreciated! New chapter will be uploaded tomorrow (4th March)


	3. Coffee and a Good Book

When Dean awoke, he felt groggy as hell. The couch wasn’t as comfortable as his bed, but he’d chosen it over having to sort out all his sheets. Besides, for some reason, sleeping in the bed felt too permanent. Dean didn’t like that. He couldn’t think of this as ‘his apartment’, that wasn’t right.

Dean put the coffee machine on (something he’d considered a necessity despite his hopefully limited time here) and picked up his phone. One missed call from Sammy. A text from Bobby. Another two from Charlie. He texted back all of them, letting them know everything was fine and not to worry. Dean felt a slight pang that Benny hadn’t text him to find out where he was, after all, Dean hadn’t told him he’d he leaving and it had been a couple of weeks.

Dean had convinced himself he wasn’t the one that always called Benny for a booty call, but this revealed a truth to Dean. He’d been the one to continue their fling, Benny was never the one to contact Dean. He was pissed that the man was inside of his head.

Dean let his mind drift to the beautiful man that he’d met yesterday. It had been a long time since Dean had felt that nervous around a person. It wasn’t great, Dean had behaved somewhat foolish, but he was pleased he’d met that Castiel fellow. He was interesting, and boy, was Dean interested.

Still, annoying that he seemed to be with somebody. There was a part of Dean that really thought that a cute guy had been flirting with him. Being bisexual was great, Dean couldn’t deny that, but he did struggle to openly flirt with guys, just because the likelihood they were straight was relatively high. It was rare Dean flirted with a guy and he responded so well.

Dean spent the day tidying up the apartment, making his bed, putting up some books and a few plants. It made the place feel a little less bland, but it still didn’t feel like a home.

Hours flew by and Dean decided as the book club started at 7, he would try and get there at 6:50, not too early to seem eager, but early enough to look interested and maybe get another chance at talking to Castiel. Dean knew he should have been more focused on the Garrison, but he figured he wouldn’t get too far with a little community book club. He promised himself that he’d have a quick look around the place for any hints of the cult if he got the chance. Plus, maybe some of the book club members knew the owners, or some members of the cult. Dean could always ask some questions while he was there.

Dean jumped into the shower at 6:20, wanting to appear clean and put together after an afternoon of cleaning and organising where he’d gotten a little dirty and sweaty.  

Dean could fault a lot of things with this apartment, but damn, it had good water pressure.

He ran soap over his body as the water gushed over his back, closing his eyes and enjoying the heat. He ran a soapy sponge over his arms, then his stomach, then his legs. Dean couldn’t help but let his mind wander to times where it wasn’t a sponge running over his body. Where it wasn’t hands, but lips, than trailed over his stomach, heading down further down the body until they reached the desired point.

Dean continued to imagine the heat of another body, the feel of somebody close as the bathroom began to become steamy from the length of the shower. He let himself imagine the blue-eyed neighbour, so close to Dean that Dean would have been able to undress him. To run his hands over…

Dean was snapped into reality when he heard a knock at the door. Unsure of who it was, Dean cursed and hopped out of his little fantasy and out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around waist.

“One moment.” He called out, hoping it wasn’t the landlord here to greet him or something. He didn’t have the time. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times to stop it from dripping onto his face. Then, feeling ridiculous, he opened the door.

“Oh!” A very surprised looking Castiel quickly looked away and Dean felt himself flush. Somewhat because Castiel’s reaction, but mostly because he started to vividly remember exactly what, or who, he’d been thinking of before there had been a knock.

“Castiel! I’m sorry, I was showering.” Dean looked around for a t-shirt. “Obviously.”

“My mistake, I apologise, I shouldn’t have come over unannounced.” Castiel still wasn’t looking in Dean’s direction, and it was bothering Dean more than he knew it should. He wasn’t exactly ashamed of his body, and a little staring wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Might have let Dean know if he was interested.

“Not at all, I’m so embarassed, answering the door semi-naked.” Dean finally spotted some clothing, so he raised a finger to indicate ‘one minute’ to Castiel and dashed to grab the shirt he had laid out for tonight. He decided that, as he was there, he would dry himself as fast as humanly possible and throw on his boxers and jeans on.  Now dressed, Dean came back to find Castiel exactly where he had left him.

“Sorry about that.” Castiel finally looked up at Dean’s face. “So, what brings you up here?”

“I thought I would come and show you where the book club takes place. I figured it’s never nice showing up by yourself to these sorts of things. You’d still like to come, yes?” Castiel looked so hopeful that Dean would have told him anything he’d wanted to hear at that point. Dean noted the profound effect this guy had on him. It was odd, Dean was drawn to him and not just because he was cute as hell. With every word Castiel spoke, Dean found himself more intrigued. It was like piecing together a puzzle when you didn’t know what it would look like when it was finished. Dean wanted to know immediately, but instead would have to settle for information coming slowly.

“It doesn’t start for another half an hour.” Dean checked the clock, that did indeed display ‘6:31’ on it.

“I like to be early. Besides, if you get there late, all of the good snacks are gone. And the coffee is still nice and hot before 7.” Castiel grinned. “You need a good coffee to talk about books.”

“Yeah.” Dean found himself staring at Castiel’s lips, imagining kissing them after Castiel had just taken a sip of coffee. Dean swore the image was so vivid, he could almost taste it. “I’d best get some shoes on then.”

“Take your time.” Dean gestured for Castiel to follow him inside, and Dean tried not to imagine how much more fun they could have if stayed inside the apartment and didn’t go to book club. Fun in the bedroom, fun on the kitchen counter, fun in the shower… _a lot_ of fun.

“So, what book have you all been reading?” Dean called out from his bedroom as he threw on his jeans and socks.

“It’s called ‘Nineteen minutes’. It’s a story about a mother torn apart by the actions of her son.”

“Sounds…intense.” Dean guessed, not really paying too much attention.

“It was. A good read, I’d recommend it.” Castiel said, looking over Dean’s shelves. He was surprised at how clean the place was considering the guy had moved in the previous day. “You got the place sorted quickly.” He remarked.

“I didn’t have a lot of stuff. I didn’t move with a lot of things.” Dean noticed the man running his finger along the spines of a couple of books, and he figured this guy was definitely a bookworm. Cute.

“Understandable. These past few months must have been hard on you.” Castiel looked up from the shelves and straight onto Dean who was doing up the laces on his boots. He wore a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt with green and black squares. Dean wanted to look put together, but not too dressed up. He thought he’d nailed it, except that he was only now noticing that Cas was wearing a suit. Not a massively fancy suit, but a suit none the less. Over the top of it was a beige trench coat, that Dean thought was an interesting fashion choice. He wore a blue tie that matched his eyes. The whole outfit, trench coat included, suited him in a weird sort of way.

“Should I change?” Dean asked. “I look so casual compared to you.”

“You think I look over-dressed?” Castiel raised his eyebrows at Dean. He tilted his head to the side, squinting a little, but he had a slight curve in his mouth that let know Dean he wasn’t being too serious.

“No! No, you look nice. Very smart.” Castiel smiled at the compliment and Dean felt his cheeks warm.

“Thank you, Dean. So do you.” Dean wanted to press him about whether or not he thought Dean looked ‘nice’ which was a compliment, or ‘smart’ which was something you’d say to a co-worker or new neighbour.

The pair walked the short distance to the hall in near silence. Dean found himself commenting on the buildings colour, which was a sunny yellow. Castiel nodded but didn’t anything.

“You ready?” Castiel asked politely as they stood outside the door to one of the side rooms. The place was relatively simple looking. There were notice boards filled with sessions and activities that were run here. A few posters about community values were hung on the yellow walls, and they had a trophy case. But still, nothing out the ordinary. No big crosses or religious mantras. There didn’t seem to be any trace at all that the Garrison operated here at all.

Dean nodded and Castiel pulled open the door for him, allowing him to walk on it.

In the room stood about 3 individuals, only one of them Dean recognised.

“Castiel, you took your time. I was beginning to wonder where you’d gotten to.” Gabriel said to Castiel, before turning to Dean. “Hello, you’re the new one, correct?”

“Yes, I was helping him find his way over here.” Castiel responded.

“That’s nice.” Gabriel didn’t say any more, but instead went back to his conversation with a short woman who looked to be in her late 50’s in a cream cardigan.

“Sorry about him, he’s a little protective.” Castiel muttered quietly to Dean as they walked over to the coffee table together. There was also an array of cakes and biscuits, of which Dean would eat 11 of before the end of the session.

“Well, most boyfriends are.” Dean said back quietly, and to his surprised Castiel cracked up laughing.

“You think Gabriel is my boyfriend?” He kept laughing, which caused the lady in the cardigan to look over. “No, no. He’s my brother.”

“Oh.” Dean tried to suppress his smile. “I’m sorry for assuming.”

“It’s fine.” The room had slowly began to get slightly fuller, and Dean could count 9 heads, including his own.

“My bad, I’m always doing that sort of thing.” By ‘thing’ Dean meant getting confused with wanting somebody to be queer and them actually being queer.

“It’s not a problem. _He’s_ not my type anyway.” Castiel placed his hand on Dean’s arm and Dean swore that was Castiel hitting on him. The fact Castiel had chosen that wording left Dean feeling hopeful again. It wasn’t a green light per say, but it was looking more like an amber ‘proceed with caution’ type of situation. That, Dean figured, he could work with.

“Did you want to grab something to eat after this, Cas?” Dean surprised himself by asking. “I’m still new and I don’t really know anywhere or have any food in the house.” The first part was true, even if the second thing wasn’t.

“Cas?” He asked, his tone not sounded surprised so much as curious.

“Oh, right, sorry. You don’t mind it, do you? Castiel is just a little long.” Dean felt like such an idiot, he could have kicked himself.

“Cas.” Castiel repeated it, like he was tasting the new nickname. “I like it. And food would be great. I’m always happy to show a new person the best spots in town.”

“Awesome.” Dean felt chuffed, he couldn’t believe it.

“I think everybody is here now, we should sit.” Cas said, gesturing at a chair in the pre-formed circle. Everybody else followed or was already sat down.

Dean looked around the room, waiting for somebody to do something, too excited about the prospect of a cute hook up to notice that Cas had never taken his seat. Cas began to address everybody and Dean snapped his head to look up at him.

“Hello again everybody, it is wonderful to see you all. If you haven’t noticed, we have a new face with us today.” Dean was surprised to see that Cas was in charge of this club, but it made sense as he’d been the one putting up posters. He was silly for not having seen it before. Dean gave a small wave to the group surrounding him. Cas continued, “I think introductions are in order. I’ll begin. My name is Castiel Novak and I am chair of this book club. On behalf on The Garrison, I welcome you all”

Dean’s waving hand dropped like brick.

The Garrison.

This club was part of it.

And so was Cas.


	4. Cheeseburgers & Cursing

Dean awoke with more confidence than the day before.

So he’d been caught off guard by a cute guy, so what? Dean had made worse mistakes in regards to men before. Like that time he’d hit on some hot girl without realising her husband was stood next to her. That mistake had gotten him a black eye.

He didn’t know Cas, he couldn’t feel too bad about falling for his tricks. He’d had no reason to suspect that anyone from the Garrison lived in his building, he’d done nothing wrong.

This whole accidental meeting was the perfect chance to get on the inside of the group. Clearly, Cas liked him as a potential member, or he wouldn’t have asked Dean to join the book club.

Dean made himself a coffee, starting reading the book he’d been given while he waited patiently for midday when he could put today’s plan into action. As much as he wished he was at home, it was quite nice to take a day off and read, Dean thought. He was always so busy at home, constantly writing papers, doing research or grading papers from students.

When the clock hit midday, Dean got up and dressed himself. He grabbed a jacket and his wallet, and headed out the door, down the steps and knocked on the door of apartment 22.

He waited until the door swung open and Castiel lit up with a smile. Dean smiled back automatically, and then reminded himself not to get too swept up.

“Dean. What a lovely surprised. Would you like to come in?” Dean wasn’t sure he was comfortable going into the man’s apartment. Lunch was much less personal than his house. Dean also didn’t want to look too eager to snoop around, and it would probably be easier to have a good look around at a different point, when he had more time.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to go to lunch? Like, now, maybe?” Castiel nodded with enthusiasm.

“I’d love to. Let me just grab my coat.” Dean caught a quick glimpse into a room that appeared to be 90% books. They were crammed into every shelf, and piles of them were lining the floor and the walls. Dean couldn’t resist, and he stepped into the room, scanning it. There must have been 300 or so books in the living room alone.

“Wow.” Dean muttered under his breath. Even though this was the apartment of a cult member and he was trying to remember that, Dean couldn’t help but be amazed. Cas looked over at Dean as he stepped slowly around the room in bewilderment.

“People donate a lot of books to the centre, but the books normally aren’t in a good condition or they’re not helpful.” Cas explained. “Most of them are worthless, so they give them to me for the book club and for personal use.”

“Do you read them?” Dean realised that was a silly question. “I mean, how many have you read?” Cas came over and stood next to Dean.

“Just over half maybe. Every time I read one, I probably gain three more, so it’s tricky to finish the piles.” Dean turns to look down at Cas, his piercing blue eyes full of sincerity.

Why did this guy have to seem so normal? There was no shrine to a God, no crosses and nothing unusual. Everything about him seemed so regular, Dean hated it. He wanted to hate him, but it was hard. He seemed like a nerdy, quiet bookworm and it was so attractive.

Dean noticed that Castiel was a few inches away, his head tilted up to look him in the eyes. It would be so easy to lean down, to taste those lips.

“We should get to lunch.” Dean said, instead of doing anything. He couldn’t. It was right, and it wouldn’t do anything any good. It was just attraction, and attraction fades.

“Okay, I’ll take you do my favourite place.” Cas smiled, a sort of small smile, but bright nonetheless.

The two walked side by side commenting on the weather and the town for about 3 blocks. They arrived at a place called ‘Josie’s’ and Cas opened the door for Dean to go in.

They sat down and Dean scanned the menu.

“Their cheeseburger is to die for.” Castiel informed him, and Dean looked at the description of their signature cheeseburger.

“Looks good.” A young man came to take their order, both of them ordering the burger and Dean ordering a coffee whilst Castiel opted for a tea.

There was moment of silence.

“So, we didn’t get a chance to talk last night. Sorry for running off. I really enjoyed the session, but I was thinking about something you said. You mentioned you work for the Garrison?” Dean tried to keep his voice calm and casual. He pronounced the name ‘Garrison’ carefully, like he’d not said it before. “What exactly is that?”

“Oh.” Cas seemed a little surprised by the question. “It’s a religious organisation. We work out of the centre, providing community support.”

“You’re religious?”

“I was raised in the group.” Cas said, smiling at somebody who came through the door. “It’s a big part of my life.”

“Right. That’s cool.” Dean wasn’t sure how to press for the information that he needed without seeming suspicious or looking weird. “So, like, your family is a part of it?”

“Yes. My siblings.”

“And your parents?”

“No, my father was absent most of my childhood before he died when I was still quite young and my mother passed when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry.” Dean felt bad for the guy. “I understand what that’s like.”

“Your mother passed?”

“I lost both my parents when I was younger.” Dean felt a tug in his chest. He felt weird discussing this. The waiter came back with their drinks and Dean added some sugar and cream to his cup.

“I am sorry to hear that. That is a terrible thing to experience.” Dean nodded but did not elaborate.

“It must be nice working with family.” Dean tried to change the topic.

“Sometimes.” Castiel sighed.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He fiddled with his hands, running his thumb down the edge of his cup with great intent. “My family are not exactly normal. Sometimes it is difficult to remember they are my family.” Castiel looked up from his cup. “The whole Garrison is a family though, metaphorically speaking. We all care very much for each other.”

“Sounds nice.” Dean said, his tone a little colder than he meant it to be. He attempted to sounds more positive about the whole thing, just the right amount of intrigued. “It’s good you can work with the community. What kind of work do you do?”

“I am mostly in charge of the centre. The clubs and group sessions. Gabriel helps me. It’s nice to give back the community.”

“Yes, it must be very rewarding.”

“What do you do, Dean?” Castiel looked at him and Dean felt himself getting a little lost in the blue of Cas’ angelic eyes. Dean knew he was warming up to the man even more. He couldn’t help it. Cas really did seem to believe, in his own way, that he was helping the community.

Dean hated judging anyone’s beliefs, and tried to avoid it. These types of cults were the exception to that normally. He couldn’t help but despise anybody that took advantage of people’s willingness to belief in something greater, or their trusting natures. Usually cult leaders or missionaries were out for money, but Cas didn’t live in a mansion. He wasn’t using his position to steal money, his groups seemingly cost nothing to join. He did seem to believe in his cause, and Dean couldn’t help but feel bad for this guy that was raised in this organisation. It wasn’t exactly his fault that people joined the cult. He was just following what he believed, the same as any member of a religion. Dean couldn’t dislike anybody like that.

We all had faith in something after all. Dean was a strong believer that science requires just as much faith as religion does. After all, nothing could be irrefutably proven except mathematical proves. Everything else could be ‘proven’ but then disproved later. Take the atom. They believed for years and years that the atom was the smallest thing in the universe, then they cracked it open and all this junk fell out, and now they know about quarks and everything else that’s smaller. To Dean, somebody who claimed that science disproved religion was fooling themselves. They work in unison, each explaining things in their own way. Dean had written many papers about the cosmological Buddhist explanations of the universe and concluded that they were fully compatible with any theory about the origin of the universe, scientific or not. The same applied to many religions, people just had to look at science and faith as a relationship, not as two ends of the spectrum. They came hand in hand, and were both equally respectable.

Dean believed that all faith was a wonderful thing. Cas wore his faith like a crown, and it was radiant. It was a thing of beauty.

It had been a long time since Dean had had faith in something and for a fleeting moment, he was a little jealous that Cas had some. It was a difficult thing to maintain, and Dean wished he could have kept some of his.

“I was a mechanic.” Dean said, using his somewhat fake job. He’d worked with Bobby many years ago, but entirely informally. “So, is the book club part of the Garrison? Do I have to join the organisation to participate?”

“The book club does not require religious belief.” Cas said, and he sounded genuine. “Gabriel and his groups are the ones that believe in the message of the Garrison. Some people like what he teaches, others do not. People who come to the book club may seek out religion, but all we do is provide a helping hand for people to find their own way. If they find themselves looking towards the Garrison, we help them. If not, we help them still.”

“Oh.” Dean said. He was coming to terms with this information. He was trying to piece together that information with the information he already knew from the Garrison.

“A mechanic.” Cas repeated. “Tell me, what did that entail?”

“Mostly fixing older cars.” Dean smiled, remembering back to his pre-college days when he would help Bobby out.

“You must be good with your hands.” Cas smiled into his coffee, then turned a little pink in the cheeks. “I mean, you must be handy.”

“I suppose.” Dean shrugged. “I’m the guy you call if you need help changing a lightbulb.” He joked, but Cas looked excited.

“Do you have a job in the town yet?” He asked, just as Dean caught sight of their food arriving.

“No, why?” Their food was placed on the table and Dean was temporarily distracted from their conversation by a delicious smelling cheeseburger. He ate a fry that was dangling half off the plate. Dean had eaten a lot of fries in his life, and he could safely say these were in the top 5 he’d ever had.

“How would you like one?” Cas asked, “I need to hire a handyman around the centre. It could really do with some maintenance. I can’t pay much, but it’s enough to get by.”

“That…” Dean considered the options. He tried to figure out if this was the right move to gain access to inside the Garrison. “Would be awesome, thank you.”

“Good!” Castiel beamed. “You should try the burger.” Dean did.

“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean said, swallowing the first mouthful. It was an incredible burger.

“I know.” Castiel bit into his, and looked as pleased as Dean.

“I gotta say Cas, you don’t strike me as a religious guy.” Dean commented. “I thought you’d be more… I don’t know, preachy?”

Castiel laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. That part of my life is very… complex. It is nice to hear it is not the overwhelming part of my personality.” He frowned.

“What do you mean?” Dean couldn’t tell if he was pressing because he wanted information about the cult, or if he wanted information about Cas. He assured himself it was the first one.

“It’s just, oh never mind.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” Dean felt the urge to comfort him in some way, but he pushed it down. There was something about this guy, it was almost impossible to feel anything negative either towards him or around him. Dean wanted to hate him, to see him as nothing more than some cult fanatic who was out for Dean’s soul because then all of this would become so much easier, but Dean couldn’t. All he wanted was to reach out and take Cas’ hand in his, to try and minimise the angst Cas seemed to be experiencing.

But Dean didn’t. Instead, he turned to Cas and said, “I’m sorry for pushing. I can be a little nosy.” Cas looked up at Dean with those intense eyes.

“You weren’t. I understand most people wouldn’t be so uncomfortable talking about their line of work.”

“It’s fine. You’ve got shit you’d rather not discuss, I get it.” Dean decided it was best not to push him any further. He was opening up, and that was enough for now.

“Do you?” Cas shifted his weight in his chair, looking a little uncomfortable. “Have…shit that you don’t like to talk about it?” He winced at the curse word, like he’d never used it before. It was oddly endearing. Dean was learning that the man who looked a few years older than him was very innocent. As if reading Dean’s mind, Cas said, “Sorry, I’m not used to cursing.”

“It’s okay, everybody has shit.” Dean thought about everything he couldn’t discuss with Cas, and everything he’d never tell anybody.

“I suppose they do.” Cas noted.  

The pair settled into a comfortable silence. Dean didn’t feel the need to elaborate, and Cas didn’t feel the need to press. They sat there, enjoying their food and occasionally catching the other one’s eyes.

“So, you can’t curse.” Dean smirked after a while and Cas confirmed this. “Anything else you can’t do?”

“A few things. The Garrison is a caring, understanding community, but every community has rules. We follow strict rules from the Bible on what things are morally acceptable.”

“So, it’s Christian group?”

“Of sorts.” Cas narrowed his eyes. “Are you religious?”

“I’m… very intrigued with the idea of religion.” Dean said, and it was the truth. He was, just probably not in the way Cas was meaning.

“But you are not a man of God?”

“I wouldn’t say that, no.”

“Interesting.” Cas said, a little quieter than he was speaking before. He looked thoughtful.

“So, is everybody else in the Garrison like you? Do they live in the building we live in?” Dean obviously knew the answer to this, but he needed to get solid information.

“You seem very interested in my religion, for a man of no faith. Most atheists or agnostics are anti-religion.” Cas wasn’t accusing him of anything, but Dean knew he’d been a little too excited about gaining some insight.

“I just want to know who I’m living with.” Dean smirked. “Besides, I think I’d find anything about you interesting.” Cas looked a little surprised, but happy. “I already know you like to read, and that you like good food. I’d like to know more.” Cas looked down at his food, trying not to smile. Dean could have sworn his cheeks turned a little pink again.

“No, few in the Garrison live in our building. We have a community living space a little way from here. A couple of us spread the message of our group, the others live there permanently.”

“But not you?” Dean figured if he kept the questions directly about Cas, he could find out what he needed without raising too much suspicion.

“I used to, for many, many years. I asked to come out.” He admitted.

“That makes it sound like you were locked up.”

“No, no, it wasn’t like that.” Cas quickly assured him. “Most wish to stay there, and I did. But I moved into the community when I was 7, I remembered little from outside its walls. I was curious.”

“Was the outside like you remember?” Dean was a little surprised at this information. Cas was such a complex person. He had also not realised how young Cas was when he joined. Based on what Dean knew, that couldn’t have been very late into the Garrison forming, based on Cas’ age. Maybe he was one of the first in the group.

“Not at all.” Cas chuckled. “I like it here though. I like to help people, and I can do that with the centre.”

“With the book club?”

“Not as much, but with other things. We do counselling. We help those experiencing grief, those who have lost people close to them. We help the homeless, the needy. Those who need education. It’s a very special place to work.” Castiel lit up when he talked about his work, Dean liked that. It was endearing.   

“Wow.” Dean said under his breathe. He cleared his throat, “That’s great. It’s nice to see that you enjoy your work.”

“I really do.”

**

Castiel and Dean finished the meal and then headed off to the centre. Cas had promised to show Dean what needed to be worked on around the place, and he wanted to draw up some papers to have Dean sign. Dean was glad it was cash-in-hand as he knew his bank was under his actual name. He had not intended to get a job here, he was still being paid by the university for this.

The two looked around the place with Cas pointing out leaky pipes, a busted tap, some flaking paint, several blown light-bulbs, a broken radiator and half a dozen other issues. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed by Dean.

“I really appreciate all this.” Cas said when they were finished with the tour. Dean was on the lookout for information or clues about the Garrison the whole time but he found nothing. The only room he wasn’t shown was Cas’ office, which Dean figured would be the place to look for information.

“What are neighbours for, eh?” Dean grinned. He signed some papers that confirmed a pretty fair pay rate and a set number of hours per week. He was due to start the next day, and he was actually kind of excited to get started. It had been a while since he’d done this sort of physical work, and it would be nice to get a chance to do it again.

The two walked back over to their apartment building, and they stopped in the stairwell next to Cas’ apartment to say their farewells. Dean appreciated the lighting of the stairwell, it had one small window that shone on Cas and practically lit him up. His eyes shone the blue that Dean was now sure was his new favourite colour.

“It’s been lovely spending this time with you today, Dean.” Cas said, his voice sincere.

“Yeah, thanks for showing me around a bit and, you know, the job.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to behave. He felt like he’d been on a date or something. That wasn’t his style at all. What’s more, he’d really enjoyed himself.

“My pleasure. Any time.”

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Cas nodded and then headed into his apartment. Dean went to his and flopped down on the bed, still reeling from the day.

There was something about this guy. Dean couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was. It was there, shining through that radiant smile and those knock-out eyes.

Dean took out his laptop, and wrote his report for the day.

**‘** _DAY 2_

_THE GARRISON IS PRIVATE EVEN WITHIN ITS MAIN OPERATING FACILITY._

_INDIVIDUALS IN THE GARRISON LIVE IN ONE SPACE, AS PREVIOUSLY UNDERSTOOD. SOME INDIVIDUALS ARE KEPT THERE FOR DURATION OF THEIR LIFE (ASSUMPTION BASED ON WITNESS- HOWEVER POSSIBLY BIAS OR UNRELIABLE). ‘_

_“SOMEWHAT” CHRISTIAN GROUP. CERTAIN USE OF THE BIBLE FOR MORAL GUIDELINES. HELPING PEOPLE SEEMS IMPORTANT TO THEIR BELIEF. NO CURSING ALLOWED. NO SIGNS OF NEGATIVE RESPONSE TO INDIVIDUALS OUTSIDE OF THE GROUP. E.G BOOK CLUB OPEN TO ALL._

_NO SIGNS OF OBVIOUS ‘CULT’ TACTICS EXCEPT FOR ATTRACTIVE RECRUITMENT AGENTS, A COMMON OCCURRENCE. SEPARATION FROM  MAINSTREAM SOCIETY IS ALSO RELEVANT HERE. (LOOK INTO SCHOLAR A.WHITEHEAD FOR REFERENCE)_

_COUNSELLING PROVIDED IN WILLOWBROOKE COULD BE THE MAIN WAY OF GETTING PEOPLE TO CONVERT- AS PREVIOUSLY NOTED IN MY OTHER PIECES, IT IS EASY TO TARGET PEOPLE EXPERIENCING GRIEF AND LOSS. IT COULD GO SOMEWHAT INTO EXPLAINING WHY SO FEW PEOPLE LEAVE THE GARRISON- IF THEY HAVE EXPERIENCED SIGNIFICANT LOSS, THEY WOULD HAVE NO REASON TO RETURN TO THE OUTSIDE WORLD ONCE HAVING ENTERED THE FACILITY AND COULD HAVE NOBODY ‘MISSING THEM’. POSSIBLY EXPLAINS LACK OF DEPROGRAMMERS AS WELL- NO ONE ON THE OUTSIDE TO PAY OR REQUEST THEIR RETURN._

_DEPROGRAMMERS- INDIVIDUALS HIRED, USUALLY BY FAMILY, TO GO INTO CULTS AND REMOVE THE TARGET THROUGH REASONING OR SOMETIMES FORMS OF KIDNAPPING. ILLEGAL BUT IN A GREY AREA, STILL USED TO THIS DAY._

_CASTIEL NOVAK- WITNESS AND PERSON OF INTEREST #1. HAS BEEN IN THE GARRISON SINCE HE WAS SEVEN- TIMELINE OF MICHAEL TALKS WOULD SUGGEST THAT MADE HIM ONE OF THE FIRST MEMBERS IN THE ORGANISATION. HAS SIBLINGS IN THE GARRISON AND NO OTHER FAMILY. RECRUITMENT MEMBER THAT SEEMINGLY OBTAINS NO BENEFITS FROM THE GROUP. PERSONAL CONNECTION TO THE GARRISON- EVIDENT FROM USE OF LANGUAGE ‘FAMILY’ ‘CARE’ ‘LOVE’. BELIEVER. CUTE. NICE EYES._

It felt strange to write about Cas in this way, but it was what was required of Dean. He erased the last few words from his computer, and put the laptop down. He needed to be more suspicious of Castiel Novak, but Dean was finding himself thinking about Cas constantly when he should have been focusing on work. Work was what was going to get him back home to Warwick University, back to Sammy and Charlie and his job. Now was not the time for distractions, and boy, was Castiel a big distraction. 


	5. Coffee & A New Job

Dean awoke at 7:30, ready to get to work for 9. He was always an early riser, it was rare he needed more than 5 hours’ sleep, and he was very grateful for this.

He made himself a coffee and jumped in the shower, meaning it would be cool enough to drink by the time he got out. He sat down, still in his towel. He texted Charlie, just asking her how things were, and then put a piece of toast on. He wasn’t normally huge on breakfast, but it was rare he did such physically demanding work, so he guessed he might need something other than coffee to fuel him. He got dressed, trying to choose the clothes that looked the oldest. Unfortunately, a lot of stuff was new because when Dean had moved he’d picked up a new wardrobe. He threw some jeans and a black shirt on, hoping it looked a little worn out. He told himself that he shouldn’t be trying to look good, especially not just because he was seeing Cas, but it didn’t stop him from checking himself out in the mirror just to check he looked okay. It felt alien to Dean to wake up and not put on some kind of suit. At his work, it was expected that he looked academic and professional at all times. Even on the weekends, Dean was inclined to put on a button down and smarter clothes. He felt he always had to look the part, because often, people didn’t seem to take him very seriously.

Over the years, many other scholars had shunned or disregarded Dean simply because of his background. He was proud of who he was, what he had managed to achieve despite his unusual background. It wasn’t often people who didn’t have money got this far, Dean knew he was lucky. Normally, scholarships are reserved for subjects like medicine or were in relation to sports. Dean was a good student, but his record wasn’t perfect by any measure. Wanting to move into religious studies as a topic was tricky, and it was mainly filled with private school kids who learnt Latin and did classical studies. Dean did none of that. He could translate Latin now, as well as Biblical Hebrew and Ancient Greek, but that was what he chose to learn on his own time. Dean was many things, but unmotivated was not one of them. Although he worked hard, Dean still felt like an outcast in the academic groups. They were mostly quick to judge, and Dean knew he would never fit in fully. He was glad he’d found Charlie who hated the snobbish nature of the University elites.

Still, Dean always felt like he needed to prove that he belonged in the academic community, and clothes were a way of doing that. If he looked like everybody else, Dean didn’t think they’d question his belonging there.

Wearing these clothes reminded him of his adolescence, and man, did Dean not need a reminder of any of that. Still, there was still something nice about knowing he needed clothes that he would get dirty in. He felt like he always did before he would join Bobby in the yard, ready to fix anything Bobby gave him.

Dean noticed the time, and headed out the door, wanting to be early. He contemplated his options. He could go and knock on Cas’ door, which seemed a little personal given the circumstances were professional this time around. He could go and wait for him at the centre, or perhaps he would already be there. Dean opted for the latter, it would be best to look like a hard worker, and not like he was a friend given a job.

Were they friends? Dean considered his friends at home. Charlie, Jody, Bobby, Garth, the other members of his department. He didn’t exactly behave the same around them as he did around Cas. He was much more flirty.

But he didn’t behave like he did around Benny either, so clearly he wasn’t just treating Cas like a potential one night stand.  

Could he be friends with somebody he didn’t trust? Could he be friends with somebody he was studying? Was that even possible? Dean was literally lying about 95% of his entire life, friends didn’t exactly do shit like that.

“Wait up!” Dean heard from behind him as he was crossing the road to get to the centre. He turned, glad it wasn’t a busy road, and spotted Cas waving him down. Dean grinned. He’d beaten him to work. Cas had that adorable bed-head hair, and he looked pretty out of it. His clothes were a little creased and the man was squinting like his eyes weren’t yet adjusted to the morning light.

“Morning.” Dean said as Cas joined him outside the building.

“You’re very early.” Cas checked his phone. “It’s quarter to.”

“I know, I wanted to be here early to show you I’m dedicated and in case there was anything I needed to go over before starting.” Cas nodded, just didn’t look entirely focused.

“Nice. Thank you.” He paused, then pointed down the street. “Coffee?”

“Don’t you have a machine in there?” Dean gestured to the centre, knowing he’d seen a machine in there somewhere, probably in the kitchen area they had.

“We do. The coffee shop is better.” Cas started to walk without getting a response. “Come on.” He called and Dean jogged a few seconds to catch up.

“So, not a morning person, eh?” Dean teased, his voice playful and light.

“I am not, but coffee helps.” He smirked like he was sharing an inside joke with himself.

“Won’t we be late for work?” Dean asks, glancing behind him at the centre, that was now almost out of sight.

“Don’t worry, I know the manager.” Dean liked this Cas, he seemed…unfiltered. Like he wasn’t thinking and planning out everything he was saying or doing. His posture wasn’t perfect, his manner wasn’t one of a boy at a strict Catholic school. He seemed so very human, and non-robotic like he had been before when they were at the centre. 

They got to the coffee shop and Castiel recited a specific and lengthy coffee order and a strawberry muffin. The Barista knew him by name and didn’t seem phased at all by this complicated order. Dean looked it over, noticing the place had a lot of fancy options and ordered a hazelnut latte which sounded pretty good and a lemon muffin.

The place was beautiful, with exposed brick work and wooden tables. There were chalkboards with various messages and specials scattered around the walls and plants hung from every available surface. The chairs were unmatched, meaning some were wooden with cushioning, some were painted yellow and some were metal. Books were scattered around the place of all sizes and colours, in seemingly no order at all. It smelt like freshly backed cake and pressed, rich coffee and Dean loved it. It was complete chaos and yet it all perfectly fitted together.  

Castiel still seemed a little sluggish, but made conversation with the staff nonetheless. He turned to Dean and explained that the place helped out the centre when it could with refreshments. They picked up their orders and headed out the door again. Cas took a sip of his coffee immediately, and Dean noticed his chest rise and fall slowly after taking the sip, like he was breathing in the coffee instead of drinking it. Cas looked euphoric.

“This is good coffee.” Cas said, his tone much perkier than before.

“You got an unusual order.” Dean pointed out, sipping his own. It was excellent.

“It used to be a Christmas drink, now they only make it for me. I’m lucky. I got one every single day from November to January this year when they introduced it, and they’ve kept it on the secret menu for me.”

“What is it?”

“A large dark chocolate mint mocha with an extra shot of coffee and soya milk.” He smiled. “It’s was called an After Eight, like the chocolate.”

“Sounds kinda gross.” Dean didn’t think he’d need to be tactful. Soya milk alone was enough to put him off that drink.

“Try it.” Cas looked smug as he thrust his cup in Dean’s direction. Dean gingerly took the hot take-away cup and sipped the drink, surprised Cas was so okay with sharing it. After all, sharing a drink felt oddly intimate for a co-worker situation. The plastic touched his lips and Dean got the hit of smooth coffee and then the combination of rich chocolate and mint. He couldn’t taste the soya milk, but the drink felt thicker and creamier than his own (which was still pretty good) so he assumed that must be what was causing it. Never did he imagine that would be a combination he would like, or that anybody would, but it was genius.

“Holy fuck.” Dean burst out with. “That’s actually delicious.”

“Told you.” Cas laughed, and practically skipped ahead.

“There’s something different about you this morning, Cas.” Dean said, amused. He couldn’t help but comment, he needed to know what happened to bring about this Cas. This playful, teasing, messy man with the weirdest coffee order in the world.

“Well…” Cas became thoughtful. “I received some good news this morning.”

“Can I ask what it was?”

“As long as you do not share it with anybody at the centre. I got an email telling me that Gabriel will be returning to the facility that we grew up in soon. The Eden. And that my mission here is to be extended. Indefinitely.” Cas could hardly hold in his smile, he looked like a kid of Christmas morning. Dean took a mental note of the name ‘Eden’ which he had not heard before.

“And that’s good news?”

“I’ve only been out of the Eden for a year now. There is so much more I want to explore, to experience.” Dean could have sworn Cas’ eyes flickered over to Dean when he said the last words, which Dean tried not to read into. “I want to continue to do good work, to spread the word of the Garrison, and to help the less fortunate and suffering. I felt as though I couldn’t do that unless I stayed here.”

“And what’s so good about Gabriel leaving?” Cas’ expression changed a little, looking more uncomfortable. Maybe a little guilty.

“Gabriel has been out many times before. He was essentially assigned to babysit me. If you haven’t noticed, he holds a tight lease. He is determined to spread the message, and shows little interest in the world outside. I feel if he leaves, I will have a chance to do much more. I can help more people if I can relate to them.”

“I’m happy for you Cas.” Dean placed his hand lightly on Cas’ shoulder, and squeezed. Cas looked down at the hand and thanked him. “So, you will carry on working here by yourself?”

“Yes. I can run the centre by myself, I have volunteers who will help me of course.”

“I’m happy to help however I can.” Dean offered, and Cas looked grateful.

“Thank you, you already are, by providing us with your handy work.” Cas opened up the centre, but instead of sending him to work, led Dean into a side room where they could eat their breakfast and finish their coffee. Dean loved the muffin, it was the perfect combination of sour and sweet. He made a mental note of how to get to the shop, as he guessed he'd be going there a lot now, given how good everything was. 

“They’re good, aren’t they?” Cas nodded at the muffin that Dean was quickly devouring. Much better than the toast he’d eaten.

“They are. You found a damned good spot.”

“I would have missed food like this had I returned.” Cas said a little quieter.

“You don’t have this kind of food in your group place?”

“No. We eat a strict diet of things, chosen to ensure we are at our most healthy.” Cas closed one eye and looked up with the other, thinking. “We ate a lot of potato and bread. Plain vegetables. Meat that has no flavour. My people hate the devil, but I think they hate spices more.” The two men chuckled. Dean was somewhat happy to find out they didn't like Satan, as they sometimes led to less than ideal Cult rituals. 

“This place sounds fascinating.” Dean tried to casually comment. “Your life is like something out of a novel, I swear Cas.”

“Not like any book I’ve ever read.” Cas pointed out. “There are books that talk about the Garrison though.” Dean felt his entire body tense up. His heart started to thud in his chest, so loudly he could almost hear it himself.

“There are?” Dean asked, gulping down the remainder of his coffee even though it was still pretty hot.

“Yes. We are labelled as a cult by some.” Cas frowned. “Of course, that is absurd. I think I have one of the books in my office, a concerned attendee showed it to me.” He stood up and Dean did the same, placing his empty cup and mostly eaten muffin down.

“Cas.” Dean said, struggling to think of something to say. “I just want to say how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’ve only been here a few days, and you’ve made me feel so welcome.” Dean could hear the rushing in his voice, and hoped Castiel didn’t. It didn’t seem like he did, instead, he turned to face Dean fully, taking a step closer, and touched Dean’s forearm.

“I am glad I could be of help to you Dean. I think you’re a good soul, and I am glad our paths have crossed.”

Dean didn’t know whether it was the kind words, the hand on his arm, the fear Cas would go looking for what was likely one of his own books, or just how he was feeling about Cas that morning, but before Dean could think he was leaning forward, attempting to bridge the gap between the pairs lips. Cas had a sort of deer-in-the-headlights type look for a second, before moving a fraction forward. Dean took this to be a good sign, dipping downwards. 

_This is it,_ he thought, _this is happening._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I don't hate the ending too much! Next chapter will be up tomorrow. Thanks for reading!


	6. Regret & Pamphlets

Cas retreated, stepping back completely.

“Sorry, that was highly unprofessional of me.” Dean immediately said, trying to read Cas’ expression. He felt bad. He was basically using the fact Cas possibly liked him to avoid being caught in this big lie. That wasn’t fair. Sure, he was attracted to this guy, but these circumstances were tricky. 

“It’s fine. I… I should show you to your first job.” Cas said, head low. He started to rush out of the room and Dean followed him, trying to ignore the lump in his throat he was feeling. He thought Cas liked him. Clearly not. Dean told himself it didn’t matter, he had tried to kiss Cas for the wrong reasons, but for some reason that didn’t seem to make it sting any less. He cursed himself, he wasn’t supposed to be caring about people like Cas. Anybody associated with the Garrison was off limits, they were part of his research.

Knowing he needed to concentrate on what was important, Dean followed Cas to his first task, which was to fix up parts of the kitchen. Cabinets were hanging off their hinges, the sink was leaky, the hot water didn’t work and half of the tiles were chipped or needed a little attention, among other things. Dean had been provided with a basic tool kit, and Cas had assured him there would be a budget for him to go and grab supplies when they were needed.

“Look, Cas, I’m really sorry.” Dean said after Cas had finished listing everything. Cas looked uncomfortable.

“I appreciate that, but you don’t need to be.” Cas looked down at his watch. “I should get to work. You’re welcome to take lunch when you need it, there’s tea and coffee around if you would like any.” With that, he hastily backed out of the room, like he was dying to get away. Dean let himself sink down against the wall, banging his head slightly on the old wall. He was humiliated, and in the worst-case scenario he’d fucked up the best lead he had with the Garrison.

Dean worked tirelessly throughout the day on the kitchen, only stopping to eat his lunch for 10 minutes before getting back at it. He needed to prove he was a good worker, and that he was good enough to keep around despite what he’d done.

He didn’t see Cas all day, although he kept looking out for it. At one point, Gabriel came into the kitchen to grab some water for some guests, but he hardly acknowledged Dean in the slightest. Dean ensured he was polite, but he couldn’t help but be a little pissed off with the hostility from this dude.

At the end of the day, Dean knocked on the office door, expecting to drop off the tools back to Castiel and have an opportunity to set things right between them. Instead, a grumpy looking Gabriel opened the door.

“Yes?” He said, a lollipop hanging out the side of his mouth.

“Oh. Is Cas around?” Gabriel raised his eyebrows at the word ‘Cas’.

“Castiel,” He replied, “is currently out. You can drop the tools off with me.” Dean passed over the tool kit, and Gabriel dumped it just behind the door.

“I just want to say, I really admire the work you and Castiel do here.” Dean said, forcing himself to be nice. “It’s good to see people helping others.” Gabriel seemed to eye up Dean suspiciously.

“So, that’s why you’re hanging out with Castiel? Because you admire his work?”

“That, and because he’s a good neighbour. He’s a nice person, and I don’t exactly know anybody else around these parts.”

“Right.” Gabriel thought for a moment. “Castiel mentioned your Great Aunt died, is that right?” Dean nodded.

“She was just about the only family I had.”

“No parents?” Dean was confused by this sudden interest from Gabriel, but he went with it.

“No, they both died when I was younger.”

“I’m sorry. That’s not something any child should have to go through.” Gabriel looked sincere. “You know, we offer grief counselling here at the centre. Even if you weren’t close to your Great Aunt, these events can bring up forgotten or repressed emotions from a long time ago. Our group sessions are a great place to learn from these tragedies and find a way to move on in a healthy way.” Gabriel leaned over to the messy desk and pulled out a pamphlet. “Give this a read. It could be very beneficial to you.”

“Thank you.” Dean said, taking the paper from him. He glanced at the title, and it read ‘Accepting Loss’. “Do you run the sessions?”

“No, Castiel is a sensitive soul, he connects better to the individuals who are in need of comfort.” Dean didn’t find that hard to believe. “If you have any questions, ask him. He’d be more than happy to help you out, I’m sure.”

“Thank you, this is very nice of you. You and Castiel have both shown me such kindness, it must be something about the Garrison or something.” Dean wanted to show Gabriel he was positive about the Garrison, in hopes that Gabriel would see him as a potential member.

“Yes, or something.” Gabriel said, smiling at Dean, and then placing the lollipop back into his mouth.

“I’d best be off, thanks again.” Gabriel said goodbye and then closed the door, leaving Dean to think about the exchange. Perhaps this was a good thing, counselling was usually an effective way of finding people who were in the right state of mine to join a religious group.

Dean got home and sat down at his computer, fully intending to write a report about his interactions with Gabriel and what he’d observed and heard today, but he couldn’t. Every time he typed out anything, he just started thinking about Cas and how much he’d fucked up.

He kept telling himself he only tried to kiss him because otherwise Cas would have probably discovered who he really was, but Dean was worried it was more than that. He really liked Cas. He’d wanted to kiss him way before that morning, pretty much from the moment they’d met and he was actually disappointed Cas hadn’t wanted to kiss him. He thought he’d been reading the signals correctly, but clearly, he’d gotten something very wrong. Cas couldn’t have reacted more poorly to Dean’s advance. Dean would have preferred if he pushed him away or something, at least that would have been a clear response, but Cas had responded with awkwardness. That was hard to get rid of. Anger would fade, but this could stick.

Dean wasn’t used to this, he was used to quick hook ups, not feeling disappointment and hope and regret. Sure, he’d been rejected a bunch of times, but they never really got him feeling down. They were nothing to Dean. 

He attempted to distract himself by making some food and sitting down to read more of the book for the book club. It was actually a damned good book, and Dean was enjoying it. It was getting a little chilly, so Dean made himself a tea and grabbed the throw he’d purchased to add a bit of colour to the apartment. He put a playlist on his phone on quietly, and settled back down. Sipping at his drink, Dean found himself more relaxed than he’d been in a while. Normally on a night like this, he’d be researching, or reading some papers, or marking, or lesson planning. He never just took a few minutes off to just relax and take a breather. It was nice. Hell, it was lovely.  It put Dean in the right state of mind to calm down about this whole Cas thing.

Cas hadn’t fired him, he’d not reacted badly. He’d assured him everything was alright, so that was a good sign. Dean had to look at this as an opportunity to get closer to Cas, maybe he could fake a ‘coming out’ bit and ask for counselling to help come to terms to it. After all, Cas liked to help people.

Dean decided that he should act like everything is normal, and then deal with any complications that arose later on, as they came up. With that in mind, Dean sent Cas a text message.

**‘Loving the book for the group, great choice.’**

Dean wasn’t sure whether to expect a response, so he left his phone out of reach to stop himself from checking it every five minutes, and got back to reading.

 


	7. Queer Theology & Memory Lane

In the morning, Dean still hadn’t heard anything back from Cas, so he decided more extreme measures should be taken. He got up and went on with his normal morning routine before heading out the door a good 45 minutes early than he needed to. He headed down to the lovely little coffee shop and ordered himself two of the drinks Cas had ordered yesterday and a couple of pastries, explaining to the barista that he was picking them up for Cas. They didn’t seem to mind making the drinks for Dean instead, and even made conversation with Dean like they did with Cas, asking him how the centre was doing. Dean didn’t really know how to respond, but tried as best as he could.

He walked down the street knowing he should bump into Cas if he’d timed everything right. It took a few minutes, but eventually Dean caught sight of the dark-haired man in his trench coat walking down the road. He saw Dean, and didn’t seem to be too alarmed, if anything, he  just a little surprised.

“Hi.” Dean said as Cas got close enough to hear him. “I wanted to apologise again for yesterday, and assure you it won’t happen again.” He held out one of the coffees to Cas. “Peace offering?”

Cas gingerly took the coffee from Dean’s outstretched hand and smiled. “Thank you. You didn’t need to do this, I told you it was fine.”

“Still, I feel bad. I don’t normally do things like that, and I’m just so grateful to have this job, I don’t want anything to ruin it.”

“I would never fire you, Dean.” Cas assured him, sipping the coffee and Dean saw that same air of calmness wash over Cas from yesterday.

“Thanks, that’s good to know.” They arrived at the door of the centre, and Dean wasn’t sure everything was back to how it was, but it seemed close, so he was optimistic. “I got you a pastry, I didn’t know what you’d like.” Cas grinned.

“Brilliant, I love anything sweet. Thank you, Dean.” Cas let them in and Dean hovered, not sure if he was supposed to follow Cas to go and sit or go start work. Luckily Cas waved him over to sit with him. “I was very impressed with the amount of work you got done yesterday. It looks great in the kitchen.”

“Thanks, I just need to go and grab new tiles today, it should be cheap enough that I can redo the lot of it without any bother. Fixing them is a little wasteful. It’ll be easy and more cost effective to just start over.” Dean gulped down the delicious coffee, realising just how much he needed it, and passed a croissant to Cas. They ate quietly, until Dean decided to talk to him about yesterday. It was building up in his mouth, until he couldn’t stop himself from blurting something out.

“So, I came to drop off the tools yesterday and I bumped into Gabriel.”

“Oh. Okay.” Cas responded, and Dean noticed his body tensed up with the mention of Gabriel. That wasn’t the first time that had happened.

“He recommended that I checked out your grief counselling, but I’m not so sure. I’m not too good with touchy-feely stuff.” Castiel almost seemed relieved about the topic, as if he’d been afraid of what was going to be discussed.

“My group teaches how to get in touch with your emotions Dean, it’s a good place to get to grips with your feelings of loss and about our own mortality. If you believe you would benefit from the group, I think you should try it out.” Cas frowned. “You spoke to Gabriel about this?”

“Yeah, I was complimenting the work you two do here, and he was asking me questions.” Dean thought back to how Gabriel had reacted to his nickname for Castiel. “The guy seems to be a little sceptical of me.”

“Gabriel is unsure of anybody who isn’t in the Garrison or a potential member.”

“He doesn’t see me as member material?” Dean cursed himself. Clearly winning over Gabriel was something he was going to have to work on.

“Clearly not.”

“Do you?” Dean asked, prompting Cas to take a sip of coffee to give himself a moment to think.

“I think you have a kind soul, Dean. It wouldn’t surprise me if you chose a path that helped people, but I’m not sure you’d suit the Garrison. We are… careful about who joins us. God only choses the very best individuals for his vision, and those who lead good lives.”

“You don’t think I’ve led a good life?” Dean was a little taken aback by the comments. And worried. He needed to gain access to this group.

“Dean, the group preaches against… unbiblical relationships.” Cas looked away from Dean, unable to look him in the eye.

“You mean…relationships between two members of the same sex are forbidden?” Dean nearly scoffed. He’d spent enough time reading the Bible for his studies to know what it did and didn’t say. He could list 50 scholars off the top of his head who would disagree with that stance without a problem.

“Yes.” Cas sighed. “I thought maybe you’d make a good angel. But after yesterday…I am afraid that behaviour is frowned upon.”

“Angel?”

“That’s what we call members of the Garrison. Outsiders are demons. It’s just how things are.” Cas bit his lip, thinking. “It’s a dedicated group, and Michael doesn’t like same-sex couples. He thinks they are unholy.” Dean knew this wasn’t an uncommon thing for extreme Christian groups to think, even if a lot of mainstream Christian groups were accepting of gay relationships. He couldn’t believe he’d not thought about it before. He should have been more careful.

“I can understand that, but I chose to view the Bible as accepting of same sex couples. Jesus preached loving everybody. Galatians 3:28 says that we are all one with Jesus Christ and that there is no male or female. I know the Hebrew Bible, or Old Testament, is a little more critical, but surely it’s open to interpretation? Especially considering issues with translations over the years. Take…” Dean paused for a second, thinking of something he’d read a couple of years ago, “Theodore Jennings for example. He was a prominent Biblical scholar that proposed Jesus engaged in a homoerotic relationship with one of his disciples. Queer theology exists after all”

“I didn’t know you had such knowledge of the Bible.” Cas said, a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were a man of God.” Dean was worried he seemed a little too clued up, not many people could quote Biblical verses off the top of their head.

“When I was younger, I was coming to terms with…liking men.” Dean wasn’t sure how to phrase everything to make him sound new to all this. “I researched a lot of things, and I used to attend Church, so the Christian point of view interested me. I tried to ask my Priest, and he asked me not to return to Church. Since then, I’ve had a hard time believing in an all-loving God who doesn’t accept people.” Dean hoped this explanation would work in his favour.

“Everybody in the Garrison strongly believes in love.” Cas nodded. “So, that’s something you have in common.” He thought for a moment. “Thinking impure thoughts is different to acting on them, the same is true of any relationship. Maybe then, if you didn’t act on your feelings…or impulses, you could maybe join the Garrison for a meeting? If you’re interested.”

Dean was overjoyed. This was a perfect idea. This whole research task was going much more efficiently than he’d hoped. “That sounds good, I do miss that part of my life. Going to church was always such a nice, fulfilling experience.” Dean has only ever stepped foot in a church when he was researching, but he hoped his knowledge would be enough to fake being a Christian devotee.  

“I know. The Garrison provides a nice, comfortable and loving environment for all. I think you’ll like it.” Cas looked thoughtful for a moment, his hands tapping at his thigh. “I agree with you though. I think God would allow any kind of love” He cleared his throat, and then sighed, his eyebrows burrowing. “But the Garrison interprets scripture differently.”

“That’s understandable.” Dean paused, nervous to ask his next question. He finished his croissant and turned to face Cas, leaning it just a little to really study his face. “So, do you?” Cas looked at him quizzically. “Have feelings…you don’t act on?” Cas gulped. Dean saw his Adams apple bob up and down in his throat.

“Yes. But I’ve never been tempted to act on them…before yesterday.” Cas looked down at his coffee awkwardly. Dean processed exactly what Cas was saying, and his insides started doing cartwheels. He wasn’t sure if it was with gladness or relief that he simply wasn’t rejected by somebody he was actually beginning to care about.

“So, you wanted to…?” Dean let himself trail off as Cas nodded and looked up at him with those piercing blue eyes. They looked full of guilt. Dean felt his stomach knot.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you this.” Cas sighed, and Dean went to reach out to touch his arm, but realised that wouldn’t help the situation.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make this harder for you. I understand that you can’t, so I won’t do or say anything to anybody. We don’t have to even talk if you don’t want. I’ll just be the handyman you occasionally bump into.” Dean knew what he was saying was bad for his research, but he needed Cas to trust him with anything. He wouldn’t make that happen without acting like a good person.

“No, I don’t want that.” Cas rushed his words, shaking his head. “You’re a friend, and I don’t have too many of those.” He chuckled despite himself. “It’s hard being such an outsider, but you don’t treat me like some religious freak.” Dean felt an overwhelming rush of guilt wash over him. He wasn’t treating him like that because Dean was studying him. He was treating him like a religious freak, but instead of judging, he was observing him. Like he was some kind of test subject in a laboratory.

“I’d never treat you like that.” Dean assured him, feeling sick to his stomach. He was repulsed by his actions. He hated himself. What he was doing was immoral and disgusting and he never should have agreed to it. He was manipulating a good person, for his own personal gain. “But Cas, listen. I should tell you, I don’t deserve your kind words, or any of the niceness you’ve shown me. I’m sure if you knew me, what I was capable of…you’d hate me.” Dean knew everything he was saying was true, but he hated having to say it. Cas treated him with such kind-heartedness, it would be a shame if that went away. Dean had studied moral philosophy before, and even he knew there was no way of looking at this situation that made him the good guy.

“Dean, your past is the past. We have all done things we regret. You are a good soul.” Cas said it with such serenity, Dean almost believed it. Almost.

“Thank you, Cas. I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult for you, or your faith, in any way.”

“That is not your fault.” Dean hoped that was true, but part of him still wanted to argue with Cas. He’d been there. That scared kid in the closet who thought who he was was someone to be ashamed of. Feeling like there were things he shouldn’t act on because society or some group thought otherwise. Dean has spent years only going after women, knowing that he was bisexual, but thinking if he only fucked women that meant he was straight. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d told himself that not acting on feelings meant they weren’t real. He wanted to tell Cas that no matter what his behaviour was, he wasn’t straight. And that there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Dean wanted to tell Cas everything he wished he’d been told when he was younger, but he couldn’t.

Dean thought back to the first time he came out to somebody.

*

_In college, he’d come across some guy in a random computer room on campus. The guy had clearly been crying, his eyes were red and swollen, but he didn’t even look up from his computer when Dean walked in._

_“You booked out this room?” Dean asked, and the guy hardly glanced up._

_“Come on in.” He said, speaking quietly. As if somebody had magically heard him speak, three men walked past the window and started jeering._

_“Is that your booooyfriend Finn? You faggots have fun!” One of them yelled through the window and the other two called out similar shit. Dean felt so angry, but all he could do was snort and respond; “Grow up you damn bigots. Go be assholes somewhere else.”_

_“Why, so you two can get busy having gay sex?” One of the guys responded._

_“You’re just jealous because Finn here is getting some. Fuck off, stupid virgins.” The three walked on after calling out a few more slurs, but Dean ignored them._

_“Bunch of dicks.” Dean scoffed, sitting down near Finn. Finn almost looked afraid of Dean, maybe he wasn’t used to yelling. “Don’t let them get to you man, you be whoever you are. There’s always gonna be assholes who hate you for it.”_

_“Oh what, people are assholes to you for being straight?” Finn said quietly, and Dean paused._

_“What makes you think I’m straight?”_

_“I’m in your English class. You probably wouldn’t know that, because you spend the whole time flirting with Jessica Owens. She’s not interested by the way. She likes Bradford Williams.” He said, matter-of-factly._

_“Good to know.” Dean shrugged, not surprised. “Look, I’m not…straight.” Dean had no idea what possessed him to come out to a stranger. Maybe it was easier. Coming out to anyone you already knew meant that they had to correct an image of you in their head from straight to queer. Coming out to a stranger didn’t have that. If they rejected you, it didn’t matter._

_“No?” Finn frowned._

_“I’m bisexual. I’m just not out…yet. I will be some time, I just wanted to get college done with. I don’t want anything getting in the way of me getting a degree.” That was partially true, but Dean knew he was mostly just scared. He didn’t have much family left, and if Bobby and Sam decided to reject him, he would have nobody._

_“I would never have guessed.” Finn replied. “I’m gay, but I wasn’t out of the closet. Until I let my flatmate, who you just met, use my computer.”_

_“Did he find your porn?” Dean chuckled._

_“No!” Finn blushed. “He found out I’d be on forums. Talking to other people like me, trying to find people who understood what I was going through. Now my life is filled with him and his buddies screaming at me.”_

_“Well, that guy can go to hell. So, what if he’s a dick? For every person who hates you, there will be ten who love you, I swear. The world is improving, us queer folk are gonna run the world in a few years, just you wait.” Dean joked._

_“Thanks Dean, I hope you find the courage to come out soon. Thank you for trusting me.”_

_“No problem man, we’ve gotta look out for each other, right?”_

_*_

Dean was always glad to have had such a positive experience with coming out. He and Finn hung out a bit in college, and he ended up being the first guy Dean had ever kissed. Still, Dean was not ready to come out, so he and Finn had parted ways. Dean still checked up on Finn every once in a while, and was happy to see the guy was doing well. He has a partner and two little kids that were apparently angels.

Dean had come out to Sam first, then Bobby. They reacted exactly had Dean should have known they would. Sam had made such a big deal about it, congratulating Dean on his strength and immediately researching bisexual role models and LGBTQIA+ information. He’d tried to set Dean up with male friends all the time, but still introduced him to women too. Well, that was until Dean slept with a lot of them and then didn’t call again. Sam realised Dean was still a horrible relationship person, even if he was bisexual.

Bobby had responded to Dean in his usual gruff voice “That’s great kid. Pass me a beer out the fridge, won’t you?”. Dean had maybe thought Bobby wouldn’t be comfortable with it, but that wasn’t true. Bobby asked Sam questions when Sam was telling Dean about some new pro-gay law in a state, and Bobby would always ask Dean if there was a special ‘person’ in his life rather than ‘girl’. He never seemed fazed when Dean talked about going on a date with a guy, not that it happened often. Dean couldn’t have asked for a better response, and as irritating as Sam was, Dean was so glad his brother still cared.

“Have you told anybody about these thoughts before Cas?” Dean asked, and Cas bit his bottom lip.

“No, quite the opposite. It is not like I have strong, or any…sexual feelings towards anyone.” Cas looked very uncomfortable but Dean could tell Cas needed to talk about this. “I have never struggled with controlling myself. I don’t think it’s in my nature.”

“That sounds like you’re asex-” 

“Don’t say it please.” Cas interrupted. “I know what you’re going to say. And that’s…unnatural. God made us to marry and have children. He would not create somebody who did not wish to…engage in activities that result in that.” Cas shook his head furiously.

“Cas, it’s alright. Don’t worry. I won’t discuss this again, I swear.” Dean promised. “I was assuming, and I shouldn’t have. It won’t happen again.” Dean wanted to press, to tell Cas he shouldn’t deny anything. There was nothing wrong with any part of Cas, and he should be free to explore his sexuality if he was unsure. But he couldn’t. Dean swore when this whole thing was over, if he had the chance, he would give Cas a talk about sexuality. Nobody should feel as though their religion was against who they were as a person.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Would you mind not telling Gabriel that I’ve engaged in unholy relationships? I don’t want him thinking I’m trying anything with you because then he might disapprove of our friendship.”

“Of course. I do not have to tell Gabriel everything.” Cas smiled a little weakly, and Dean wished he could always see Cas in that second after he took a sip of the coffee he liked so much. That Cas was care free. Confident. Relaxed. Castiel talking about Gabriel was anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, thanks for reading! I know it's been awhile, exams have been taking up all of my time. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I was really nervous posting it because although in my mind Castiel is asexual af, people don't always share the same opinion on his sexuality. Still, I wanted to write something that was for me, not anybody else, and that's what this fanfic is, so Cas is asexual in this story. I hope you still like it! Feedback is always appreciated :)


	8. Confusions & History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note - this chapter has mentions of child abuse, death, suicide and a somewhat vague mention of blood/bodily harm. It starts about half-way down the page, please be careful, it is not described in intense detail but it might still act as a trigger. I've updated the tags to mention this, but as a warning they refers to this chapter and won't be heavily featured again, only referenced occasionally.

Dean had said his goodbyes to Cas and had started with work, his head still spinning from everything that had happened that morning.

He couldn’t help but be overjoyed that Cas did, in fact, like him. But that joy was accompanied with a lot of guilt and disappointment that nothing could happen between the two of them. In a way that made things harder, because it wasn’t like Dean was simply not acting on anything because the other person didn’t like him. Now, Dean was following the rules of a cult that he wasn’t a member of, and that he didn’t agree with. But, he knew he should be respectful of what Cas believed in, and if Cas didn’t want anything to happen, there was nothing Dean was going to do to try and change his mind. That wasn’t how Dean rolled.

He tried desperately to distract himself with the work, starting on removing the tiles from the kitchen. He focused on the physical movements, the way his fingers stung from pressing down of the tools and how his back ached from leaning and bending over. About half-way through the job, he heard somebody clearing their throat behind him. He assumed it was Castiel, so turned around, only to see Gabriel stood in the doorway, leaning on its side.

“Hello Gabriel. Can I help you?” Dean asked, trying his best to be polite. He really disliked the arrogance this guy had. It seeped through in every action Gabriel did, even leaning on a door frame.

“Maybe.”

“Care to explain?” Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes, coming to face the man. Normally, Deans height intimidated people when they were confronting them, but not Gabriel. He didn’t even seem to notice that Dean was a full head taller than him.

“You’re spending an awful lot of time around Castiel.”

“And? We’re friends.” Dean scoffed, although he was worried they’d been caught out.

“Yes, and that’s good for you.” It did not sound like it was a good thing. “But too much heart was always Castiel’s problem. He really feels for sad little puppy eyes, and a damaged soul. He can’t resist, he just wants to help everybody. The kid wants to save the world.”

“I’m not a puppy.” Dean snarled, losing his patience. He regretted his tone instantaneously, knowing he should be acting friendly, not hostile. But somehow, how this guy was talking about Castiel was irritating him.

“Sure.” Gabriel smirked. “I’m just saying, Castiel likes you. A little too much for my liking. I don’t want to cause trouble, but you have to understand that Cas has a mission to achieve.”

“He’s a grown man. He can choose who he spends his time with.”

“Of course, he can. Except that if he spends too much time fixing you, other people get ignored. And then our brother finds out that Cas isn’t doing his job, and Cas gets pulled from outside work in the Garrison. I don’t want that for him, he really does like it here.” Dean actually was surprised at how genuine Gabriel looked in that moment. It was confusing, the guy was acting like a dick, but he seemed to soften a little when he was talking about Cas being removed. Was it possible he really did care if Cas was happy?

“I’d like to help him with his Garrison work.” Dean pointed out. “I’m very interested in the work you do. Cas invited me to a meeting.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“I know a non-believer when I see one, Dean. I’ve been in this game a lot longer than Castiel and I can spot one from a mile away.” Dean felt his cheeks grow warm.

“I may not be a full believer in the same way you are, but I care about helping people. If the Garrison does that, then I’d like to be a part of it.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes, as if he was trying to figure out if Dean was telling the truth.

“I hope that’s true.”

“Wait, so who’s your other brother? You and Cas have another sibling?” Dean couldn’t help but note Gabriel’s comment earlier in the conversation.

“Castiel and I are both brothers to Michael, he founded the Garrison. He is a messenger of God. Castiel and I are very highly regarded in the Garrison. We help lead the place. Everybody was shocked when Castiel wanted to come out to spend time among demons.” Gabriel spat the word out.  “Castiel didn’t tell you this?” Dean shook his head, completely shocked.  Cas was not only a member of the Garrison, he was one of the leaders.

Dean’s head was reeling. Cas was probably a master of manipulation and an expert at getting people to join the group. Hell, he’d probably been raised being taught how to attract new members. This whole thing could be a huge con. Why else would Cas have kept his true involvement with the Garrison under wraps?

“He doesn’t talk about it a lot.” Dean managed to choke out, hoping he sounded normal.

“Yeah. Still, my brother is a good messenger. He has brought more people into our group in a year than I did in 4.” Dean forced out a smile, like he was pleased about this horrifying fact.  

“Good for him. He does seem good at his job.”

“Yeah.” Gabriel said dismissively, started to move. “I’d best be off. Nice talking to you Dean.”

Dean did not go back to work. He sat on the floor, trying to understand everything that had happened since he’d first gotten to this town.

Cas had approached him in the hallway.

Cas had come over to make sure Dean was coming to the book club.

Cas hadn’t told him he worked for the Garrison.

Cas had flirted with Dean. ‘He’s not my type.’ he’d said about Gabriel.

Cas had said yes to Dean asking him out for food, and Dean had thought it was pretty obviously a date.

Cas had been very careful about the information he’d given Dean in regards to the Garrison. ‘My siblings are a part of it’ wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was far from the truth.

Cas had taken Dean out to his favourite lunch place, he’d taken him out for coffee, he asked Dean to sit and eat with him. He’d shown all the signs of being interested in Dean. All while knowing he could never act on anything, because it wasn’t allowed.

Dean had thought he’d been the one that was trying to make things happen, but Castiel seemed to be enticing Dean. Cas had flirted with Dean, making him interested. He’d done the whole ‘good guy’ act, assuring Dean he just wanted to help people, when really, Gabriel had confirmed, Cas was mostly just a recruitment guy, not some community Samaritan. How else could he have recruited so many people in a year? Now, when Dean had made a move, Cas was smart. He didn’t outright reject Dean, he practically ignored him. He made Dean chase after him. He made Dean want what he couldn’t have. Then Dean makes a huge effort to get on Cas’ good side, and in doing so, Dean signs up for a Garrison meeting. Maybe Cas thought Dean was only showing an interest because he wanted to be around Cas, and that would make sense. Maybe Cas was so good at recruiting people because he flirted with all of them and then did this whole forbidden romance bit.

And Dean had fallen for it.

He was so angry. He checked his watch, and decided it was time for lunch at it was past noon. He needed to get out of here and think about things.

On one hand, this was great for his research. Cas thought he had Dean wrapped around his little finger, he probably had Dean already on the Garrison name list. This would make it really easy for Dean to get in with the group, and to possibly get inside the compound.

On the other hand, Dean felt angry. Angry that he’d fallen for everything. Angry that Cas had lied. Angry he had to find out from Gabriel that Cas was freaking part of the core of the Garrison.

And yet Dean knew, as angry as he was, Cas had done the exact same thing as he’d done. Dean had been lying about his intentions this entire time, and it wasn’t fair to be mad at Cas, otherwise it just made him a huge hypocrite.

Dean hated this, he hated this whole situation. He hated not being honest with Cas, and he hated being in a situation that meant he was susceptible to manipulation.

“Dean?” Cas popped his head out of his office, and Dean wasn’t sure quite how to react.

“Just going to get my lunch.” Dean told him quickly, still trying to leave. He realised Cas had not asked anything about where he was going.

“Actually, I was just wondering if…well, I wanted to ask you for a preliminary meeting about your counselling. I ask it of anybody who wishes to attend the session. I use it as a chance to determine whether or not group therapy or singular sessions would be more effective, as well as to see if I’m the right fit for you to talk to. I know it might be a little uncomfortable, and you’re welcome to refuse, but if you really are interested in the counselling, then I have to do it.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “Okay. Fine.”

“Okay, well, come on in.” Cas opened up the door to his office and Dean cautiously stepped inside. He’d been hoping to get a good look inside, so this was a good thing. It didn’t stop Dean from being massively unfocused though, he could hardly concentrate on any of the things in the office.

“Please, take a seat.”

“So, how does this work? Do you need me to cry?” There was a cold edge to Dean’s voice that Cas could hear immediately. He began to worry that he’d upset Dean.

“No, no. I’m just going to ask you a few questions.”

“Fine. But I would like you to answer a few questions of my own.” Dean said, sitting down. Cas was confused, but thought the terms were fair enough.

“Alright.” He looked down at the sheet of notes he had in front of him. “So, why is it you feel counselling would be a good idea for your situation?”

“I think it’s a good idea to talk about your feelings.” Dean said, somewhat lying. He thought it was, but this didn’t mean he ever did it. “I think this would be a good idea so I don’t end up repressing emotions that affect me later in life.”

“That’s understandable. Do you have a question for me then?”

“That’s your favourite book?” Dean asked, the question gliding off his tongue without so much as a moment’s hesitation. He noted the look of surprise on Cas’ face.

“Probably the Book Thief. I think it’s beautifully written, wonderfully though-provoking tale. It was the first thing I read when I left the Garrison to move here. So, you lost your Great Aunt, again, I’m sorry for your loss. Would you mind telling about that relationship with her?”

“I visited her maybe once a year. But when Maria got really sick I wanted to help her out. I felt it was the right thing to do. I’m sad that she passed because she was a lovely lady.” Dean thought for a moment, still unable to shake the anger from his body. “So, Gabriel tells me your brother runs the Garrison. Is that true?”

“Gabriel spoke to you? He told you that?” Castiel was shocked, and wasn’t trying to hide it like Dean thought he might. Dean nodded, watching Cas’ facial expressions very closely for any hint that he was lying. “Yes, Michael is our leader. We have the same father, so he is my half-brother, just as Gabriel is. When my parents passed, Michael was old enough to look after us all, as he’s 19 years older than myself. He took us all in, and soon after, he had a vision from God. He spread his message, and built the Garrison.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” Dean asked, a little sceptical that this was the truth. Although Castiel looked genuine, Dean was worried he was going to be fooled again.

“Because, I hate how I’m treated in the Garrison. Everybody knows me as Michael’s brother. He’s the messiah, the word of God. I’m his little brother, I’m evidence of how phenomenal he is, because he took me in and raised me. Most people I meet, they discover who I am pretty quickly because Gabriel tells them.” Cas looked ashamed, his cheeks a little flushed, and he was struggling to maintain eye contact with Dean. “You treated me like a normal person. I wasn’t some religious freak. Or some angel. I was just a person, and I liked it. I didn’t want to ruin it. You were interested in me, somebody who reads and likes coffee.” Dean felt like somebody had plunged a dagger into his chest. He could hardly breathe, and he felt sharp pains coursing through his body. His poor guy. Dean had assumed he was a master of manipulation, but he was just some guy, sick of being a freak. And here Dean was, treating him like exactly that, and fucking writing about him because of it.

“I’m sorry Cas, I thought…I thought for a minute you’d been lying to me to get me to join the Garrison. You mentioned cults, and I think I freaked out on you. I thought I was being brainwashed or something.” Dean tried to use his knowledge of the normal reaction to cults to fake his worry. He thought he sounded quite real. Cas gave him a small smile.

“You wouldn’t be the first to worry about the Garrison. But I assure you, brainwashing is not something that’s possible, let alone something we can do.” Cas chuckled. “How about we get back to you? So, would you mind telling me how your parents passed away?”

Dean thought about lying. He hated talking about his parents, and nothing pained him more than remembering that part of his childhood. But he was already lying about so much, he couldn’t bring himself to lie about his parents too. They deserved more than Dean pretending they didn’t exist.

“My mother was in a car accident when I was 4. She crashed, I was in the back of the car.” As was Sam, Dean thought, but he knew obviously couldn’t mention that he had a younger brother. Sammy had only been 6 months old at the time. “She told me to get out of the car, she could smell smoke, but she told me her leg was stuck. I had to climb out of the window.” She’d also told him to grab Sammy, and to run for help.  Dean hadn’t protested, or said anything at all, something he regretted now. “I didn’t say anything to her. I wish I had. I should have told her it was going to be okay. Or that I loved her. Anything to make her feel calmer in those last minutes. I went to get somebody, but the car caught alight before I was more than 20 feet away. People saw the flames and called 911, but it was too late. She was gone.” Dean felt a lump in his throat, and his eyes had begun to sting. He hated that memory. He hated that his last memory of his mother was her crying in a car, struggling to move, trying to reassure Dean.  He wanted to remember her at her best, when she was care free and happy, and playing with him. When she was singing him old classic songs instead of lullabies to get him to sleep.

“I’m sorry Dean, that’s an incredibly difficult thing to go through as such a young age.”

Dean tried to shrug it off. “How about you? You said your parents passed away?”

“Yes. My father died of natural causes, he was already in his 50’s when I was born. My mother, I’m actually not sure. He never talked about her, except to tell me she was gone. I guess it happened when I was still a baby.” Cas crossed over to the other side of the desk and sat in the chair next to Dean, placing his hand over Dean’s. “Your father?”

“Oh.” Dean felt as his body started to warm from the blood beginning to rush through his body. His muscles in his hands tensed, and he clenched his jaw. “He died when I was a little older, I was 11.” Dean paused, unable to begin this story as easy as he’d hoped. Cas reached out and squeezed his hand. Dean briefly wondered if he did this with everybody.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”

“No, I should be able to.” Dean took a deep breath in. “My father didn’t take too well to my mother passing. It destroyed him. He spent every second obsessing over every last detail of her life, and that day. He was convinced something had killed her. Like, maybe somebody cut the brakes, or something. I don’t know what he thought. But she’d just swerved, it was the stupidest thing, she’d seen a deer in the road and swerved on instinct. But he couldn’t accept that. Eventually he couldn’t stay in the house, so he sold it off and started to move us around. We lived in motels for months at a time, I was constantly switching schools. Every time we got settled he’d see something that reminded him of mom and we’d move again. Or he’d get in trouble with the cops. He drank. Heavily. Stole. Ran scams. He started to become bitter and angry all the time, and when he drank…”

Dean trailed off, remembering a long history of raised fists and bruises covering half of his own body. In some cases broken bones. “It wasn’t good.” Sammy was still a little too young to be smacked around, so he’d done it all to Dean. At the time, Dean took it. He felt sorry for his old man, he understood how painful it was to lose his mother, and he wanted to father to let out his anger, so he’d taken it. But it never got better, which Dean had thought it would eventually. “He was always talking about leaving. How he should just put an end to everything. Take his life and be with my mother.” Dean let a tear fall from his eye, unable to hold them back any longer. It was from anger though, not grief. Remembering feeling helpless. “And then one day, he did it. I came back, and there was a bottle of whiskey, and a bunch of sleeping pills out and a bloody knife. That was it.”

Dean left out most of the real story, how he’d gotten home, and found a 7-year-old pipsqueak Sam, sat on the floor on the other side of the room, terrified and sobbing with a broken arm. There has a bruise already forming on his right cheek, where John had smacked him. Sam had told Dean that he’d tried to stop him, and Dean looked to see John was lying down, hardly moving on the ground. He looked completely unconsciousness, Dean had no idea if he was still alive or not. Dean did not take his hand. He didn’t call an ambulance. He sat there, assuring Sammy everything was going to be alright, and he turned his back on his father. He had no idea if he’d called an ambulance then, if they could have done anything to help his father, but at that point, he wasn’t sure he cared. When Dean eventually called the ambulance, he was sure there would be nothing they could do. His father was a broken man, who’d refused to get help, no matter how many times he’d been offered it. Dean had had enough. He could put up with it when it was just him, but now he’d hit Sammy once, he wouldn’t stop. Dean would do anything to protect Sammy, and although the guilt stayed with him, he knew he’d make the same decision again in a heartbeat. He would rather he suffered than Sammy did.

Sammy had no idea what Dean did that day. He remembered basically nothing, the nurse gave him some amnestic for the arm and the trauma when they arrived. It had knocked him out stone cold. When he came to, he remembered nothing. He didn’t even know how he injured his arm. Dean had told him he’d fallen rushing to try and help John.

“How did all of that make you feel, Dean?” Cas asked, his voice a little shaky. He seemed to be emotionally affected by the story as well.

“I felt angry.” Dean said, truthfully. “I’m angry. All the time. I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t angry. It was just some stupid deer, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. And it caused all that pain and misery for years. If my mother could see what happened to her husband, it would have broken her heart. Ironically, it might have even killed her. And I’m furious. At that deer. At my dad. At the life I had to live.” Dean pushed his free fist into his thigh. His other hand squeezed Cas’ hand which was still in his, reassuring him. “I want to be sad, I do. But I can’t mourn a man who abandoned his kid so easily. And I hardly remember my mom, so I can’t exactly mourn her like she deserves. So instead…” Dean sighed, feeling deflated. “I’m just angry. That’s something I can feel.”

“So, you feel as though your father abandoned you because he chose to take his own life?” Cas seemed sympathetic, and Dean appreciated that. He wasn’t cold or distant like therapists were, but he wasn’t crying or getting upset like family members might get.

“No. I think he abandoned his family the minute he left our home. He wanted to run away from everything, and that meant his kid too.  He only took me with him because he couldn’t just leave me behind. I was nothing but a burden on that man. He’d stopped caring about me long before he ended his life, so I felt abandoned way before that.” Dean remembered all the shit his father had said to him over his childhood. Depression made you say stupid shit, but a lot of it was just John being John. He needed to blame something for the day his wife died, so he’d blamed Dean.

“What’s your favourite thing about the outside world?” Dean asked quickly.

“Coffee.” Cas joked, but his laughter felt a little forced. He seemed to be affected by Dean’s words a little more than he was trying to show. “Books. People. Freedom.” The last word was muttered wistfully, so Dean hardly heard it. “And more recently… feelings.”

“Feelings?”

“Feelings I’d never felt before. Feelings I never thought I’d experience for real.”

“Could you ever go back?” Dean held his breathe. He had no idea what response he was hoping for.

“I…should.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t think I can give a response to that.” Cas looked pained. Dean could see the angst in his face. He was avoiding looking at Dean directly.

“You deserve a life you love Cas. A life you’re proud of.” Dean knew he was overstepping, but he couldn’t help it. “If you can’t have that in the Garrison, maybe it’s not right for you.”

“They’re my family.”

“Family doesn’t equal blood. I see how Gabriel and you are together. That’s not family.” Dean sighed, unsure of what exactly he was hoping this would do. “Look, if you plan on going back, just make sure you make the most of your time here, okay? This world is disastrous, but it’s worth experiencing fully.”

“That’s a good idea Dean.” Cas managed a small smile, then excused Dean, telling him he would give him the details for counselling when he saw him next. He thanked him for all his honesty.

Dean went back to working, smashing up tiles as he prised them off the walls. It felt good. He hadn’t been lying, he was always angry. That anger had helped fuel him through school, through everything. He lived to spite the anger. Anger is what absorbed his father into a pit of nothingness, and Dean wasn’t about to let it get him too. He used it to his advantage, it kept him going. He couldn't forget that, not now, when he needed motivation more than anything. He knew this research was going to be the most trying of anything he'd ever done, but he had no clue as to the extend it would affect him emotionally. He had to remember what was at risk. Everything he'd worked for could be at risk, and that was enough to take this risk. Or, at least, that was what Dean kept telling himself. 


	9. Late Nights & Tea

Dean left for the day at 5:48, a little late because he was hoping Cas would stop by and talk to him, but no such luck. He’d not seen or heard from him since the meeting, which had Dean nervous. He went to the shops, picked up some food and milk, and tried not to think about anything too much. He got home, fixed himself a cup of joe, then made some dinner. He checked his phone multiple times, still nothing.

He finished his dinner, sat and read, sent an email to his department, text Sam asking if he was alright, then settled on the sofa for a quiet few minutes. He did miss spending time with people. Often, he’d go over to Bobby and Ellen’s for a movie night, or he’d pay some poker with Sam, Charlie, and some buddies. He did miss company. He’d finished the book he’d been assigned, and was checking out his shelf for some of the new purchases before hearing the door. 4 quick knocks. Dean moved towards the door, hoping it was Castiel with confirmation of his enrolment into the grief counselling. Sure enough, as he opened the door, there was Cas, looking a little flushed and a little nervous. His eyes were darting all the over the place, and he wasn’t staying still.

“Hey there Cas, everything alright?” Dean asked, doing his best to remain calm. There was nothing to suggest this was a bad visit after all, Cas didn’t look angry.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? That you think I should make the most out of my time here?”

“Well, yeah, it makes sense to.” Dean shrugged. Cas nodded and stepped closer to Dean. So close, their noses were nearly touching. Dean tried to step back because he was pretty surprised, but Cas had already wrapped one hand behind Dean’s neck and was pulling him closer. Dean finally noticed what was happening, and lightly pressed his lips against Cas’. His lips were far softer than Dean had imagined. He pulled his close, opening his mouth up slightly and testing the waters for a deeper kiss. Cas reacted really well and Dean didn’t want to stop. This was awesome. This was heart-thudding, pulse-racing, sweaty-palms kind of kiss. The kind of kiss Dean had only really imagined before. He couldn’t recall a time it had felt like this intense before. This wasn’t quick fireworks, over in a flash, this felt like molten lava pouring over Dean. It immersed him, demanding to be felt in every inch of Dean’s body. This was laughing with sparklers in hand on the fourth of July, the better part after the fireworks had been and gone and all that remained was laughter and joy.

Dean came to his senses far quicker than he would have liked to, and broke away.  

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to live a life filled with regret Dean. My faith might tell me this is wrong, but I have prayed for these feelings towards men to disappear and they haven’t. Years I’ve been praying. That tells me, in my heart, there’s nothing wrong with what I think. You said it yourself, I should experience things I want to.” Dean closed the door and pulled Cas inside so they could talk. He needed to make sure Cas was 100% on this. This was playing with somebody’s faith, this wasn’t just some hook up. Cas tried to kiss Dean again, but Dean politely stepped back, asking for just a moment. Cas seemed antsy, which made Dean more cautious.

“Are you sure about this?” Dean asked, and Cas smiled.

“I appreciate your concern Dean, but I know what I am doing. I have never felt a connection like this to somebody before, and I wanted to kiss you yesterday. I really did. That’s not something that happens to me often, and it’s a new feeling. I want to act on it. Do you still…?” He trailed off, but Dean knew what he was trying to say.

“Of course, I still want to.”

“Good.” Cas responded, and went in for another kiss. This time, Dean didn’t stop him. He was eager to kiss Cas, and he didn’t know if he had it in him to say no. When he kissed him, it was like everything just melted away. They were nothing but two bodies, no baggage or problems or lies. Dean had been hooking up with Benny for so long he’d forgotten what kissing without anger felt like. Somehow in his head he’d gotten mixed up and thought that anger equated passion, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

A small part at the back of Dean’s mind was asking a dozen questions a second. What did this mean? Why was this happening? Why did Dean care so much about somebody he’d known for a few days? Had it really only been a few days?

“Cas?” Dean said, after several minutes had gone by. “Cas, is this really the best idea? We hardly know each other.”

“I feel very connected to you Dean, but I understand your concern. It was why I was so worried about all of this, it all happened very fast.”

“Maybe we should slow things down.” Dean suggested, nearly laughing because that must have been the first time he’d ever said that to person. He was also very concerned that Cas might want to kiss him, but the guy might also be an asexual in denial. That didn’t bother Dean, but he wanted to be cautious. If that wasn’t Cas’ deal, he didn’t want to assume it was and rush into anything.

“Okay, what does that mean?” Cas bit his lip, looking nervous.

“Well, it means maybe we should hang out first? Talk? Go on a few dates?” Cas looked perplexed for a second.

“Dean, I have no intention of taking this any further this evening. I enjoy kissing, but it does not have to lead to anything more.” Cas gave him a small smile, and Dean felt his insides flutter.

“Okay, sorry. This is relatively new for me, I’m used to going fast.”  Dean felt bad for assuming Cas wanted more, but he was grateful Cas was not angry at him.

“We met less than a week ago, this is fast.” Cas flushed pink and averted his gaze from Deans. He swiped his thumb over Dean’s hand to reassure him. He liked how warm it was, almost comforting. Dean decided to do something he’d thought about before and he kissed Cas lightly on the forehead. A sweet, simple gesture. Not very Dean at all.

Cas glanced over at the kitchen counter, still not wanting to look directly at Dean. He was behaving immaturely, he was aware of that, but he felt like a teenager with a crush. “You drink tea?” Cas had caught sight of the still warm mug of tea that had been left on the kitchen island.

“Almost always, do you want some?”

“Sure.” Cas jumped up and rushed to the kitchen, taking Deans mug in his hands. Dean laughed and quickly followed, repeating ‘no’ half a dozen times and tried to take the mug away half-heartedly. “Thank you.” Cas mocked.

“That’s mine! I’ll make you one. It’s probably not how you like it.” Cas decided to test that theory and chugged half the mug before Dean could stop him. While waiting for the verdict, Dean filled the kettle and placed it on the stove to heat. He guessed they’d both need another one.

“You don’t have it with sugar.” Cas noted.

“You do?”

“I prefer it with, but I don’t hate it without.” Dean grinned without meaning to.

“What?” Cas seemed confused, his brows lowered and his mouth flatlined.

“We were kissing, moments ago, and now we’re talking about tea.” He shrugged. “I…guess I’m not used to it.”

“This is new territory for me as well Dean.” He didn’t say it rudely, but instead matter-of-factly. There was a softness to his voice, it was comforting. Cas smirked. “I did not expect you to be this accepting of the circumstances. I thought you’d be running in the opposite direction by now.”

The kettle boiled, and Dean took it off the stove, but he didn’t do anything else with it just yet. He wanted his full attention on the conversation. On Cas.

“There are no circumstances in which you could frighten me off Castiel.” Cas seemed surprised at the use of his full name, but Dean had felt he should be serious in the moment. He couldn’t convey to Cas exactly what he was feeling, how different this was to how Dean usually did things, but he wanted to attempt it. That meant no messing around.

“I appreciate that.” Cas said quietly. He seemed to be deep in thought. Dean went about making the tea, adding sugar to Cas’ cup. He held it out to him. With a quick inhale, as if working up the courage to do it, Cas kissed Dean on the cheek sweetly. “Thank you, Mr Singer.” Dean was taken aback by the use of his fake name. The syllables slapped him in the face. Dean tensed up, and by doing so, lost his grip on the mug in his hand. The hot tea flew out the mug, spraying all over Dean’s pant leg until the remaining liquid was thrown over the floor as the mug smashed on the ground. Castiel screeched a little as some of the tea hit his leg, but it was mostly from the surprise. Dean swore, then swore again. He didn’t care about the tea, although his leg was painful, he swore because he’d forgotten.

He was Dean Singer.

He was a lie.

This entire thing was a lie.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought to himself. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a tea towel, throwing on top of the wreckage to soak up the liquid. Cas remained where he was, positively perplexed.

Dean wasn’t sure what to do. He could ask Cas to leave but he was already behaving so strangely, so he simply apologised. Cas seemed to accept it relatively easily.

“I don’t know what came over me.” Dean lied. And before Cas could respond, Dean threw a couple of tea spoons into his own mug, and passed the mug to Cas.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Cas said, but he thanked him anyway.

“Least I could do.” Cas placed the mug down on the surface of the kitchen counter, and began to wonder over to get closer to Dean. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just clumsy.” Dean could see what Cas was about to do, but he didn’t have it in him to stop him. Cas placed his hands on Dean’s cheeks, and brought Dean’s face to his and their lips touched. Instantly, Dean felt as though he had melted. Electricity seemingly coursed through his hands where they touched Cas’ arms and back, and he felt full of this buzzing energy. His hands found Cas’ hair and they dragged Cas closer and closer. Dean wasn’t paying any attention to what he was doing, caution had been thrown out of the window. He felt Cas moan against his mouth and it felt like Dean had won some kind of award. He felt practically glowing with pride. I did that, the back of his mind whispered. Dean pressed up against Cas’ body which had been pushed up against the kitchen counter. Cas seemed breathless, but so was Dean so he didn’t mind the heavy breathing. If anything, he found it hot.

Dean knew why he was doing this, this was what he always did. Kissing, sex, physical intimacy, that was what he was good at. This was what he could do, hell, this was _all_ he could do. He could make Cas breathless and dizzy and make him experience pleasure Dean would bet he’d never felt before, but Dean couldn’t tell him his name.

“You should break mugs more often.” Castiel somewhat got out, although his voice was raspy and low which somehow made Dean want him more. Dean figured it was about time Cas got to breathe, so he kissed his neck instead. Dean’s hands went instinctively to unbutton Cas’ shirt, but he stopped himself. Instead he trailed light delicate kisses up the side of Cas’ jaw, until he was at the ear. He bit the earlobe gently, and he swore the sound Cas made was a fucking purr. Dean grinned then kissed Cas once more.

“Your tea will be getting cold.” He said quietly. He took a step back and saw how Cas was, he was panting, flushed, his hair was a mess and his lips were bright pink from activity. Dean guessed he likely looked similar. He wondered if Cas could see the guilt on his face? For a second, Dean thought Cas was mirroring his own guilt in his face. Cas bit his lip, but then looked up and seemed fine. Dean brushed it off. He was seeing what he wanted to see so he didn't feel so bad about himself. That's what he'd been doing when he kept accusing Cas of being some evil cult leader, he was simply trying to ease his own conscious. 

“I don’t mind.” Cas said, but he straightened himself out and began to sip it anyway.

Dean looked at this man, this sweet, kind-hearted man and gulped. Cas wanted nothing but to save the world, one person at a time. To make everybody better in some way. All Dean cared about was his own life, getting through it. This was a perfect example, he was manipulating all the people around him, and leaving behind all the people he cared about, and for what? His job? So he could be respected by a bunch of assholes he disliked anyway?

“Cas…” Dean said, dead set on telling him everything. Explaining himself and apologising a thousand times over if he had to. He couldn’t do this, not anymore. But then he saw how Cas looked at him, so expectant, so hopeful. His big, blue eyes looking at Dean like he was something he wasn’t; so full of kindness and contentment.

Dean swore, that if he was capable of feeling love, he would have fallen just a little bit in love right there, in that moment.

“I think it’s gross that you have sugar in your tea.” And Cas laughed, and Dean momentarily felt as though he’d made the right decision. Just for a moment though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...I know that was a LOT in one chapter. I couldn't resist it anymore, dammit, it's been 24,000 words and they hadn't kissed! I just had to. Even I hate slowburns sometimes. 
> 
> I hope it was (somewhat) worth the wait though!


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